


Nights On The Round Table

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Porn, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Anal Sex, Angst, BDSM, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bottom Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Comeplay, Coming In Pants, Cunnilingus, Dom Morgana, Dom/sub Play, Dreams and Nightmares, Edging, Exhibitionism, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Felching, Female Ejaculation, Fingerfucking, Foursome, Foursome - F/F/M/M, Frottage, Gags, Gangbang, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Incest Kink, Incest Play, Infidelity Play, Knifeplay, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Near Death Experiences, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay, Orgy, Outdoor Sex, Overstimulation, Paddling, Painplay, Pornstars, Rape Fantasy, Rape Roleplay, Reincarnation, Restraints, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, S&M, Spanking, Sub Gwen, Throne Sex, Top Elyan, Top Gwaine, Top Lancelot, Top Leon, Top Merlin, Top Percival, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeur Arthur, Voyeur Morgana, Voyeurism, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2017-12-31 14:43:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 38,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're Knights of the Round Table,<br/>They fuck whene'er they're able.<br/>When they're not on quests, at the king's behest,<br/>There's a gangbang on the Table.</p><p>(Or answering the question: what if Merlin had been a porn film instead?)</p><p>(Or asking the question: when is the worst possible time to realise you're the reincarnation of the character from your porn film?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nights On The Round Table

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Merlin Sexstars](http://merlin-sexstars.livejournal.com/) for the prompt: _Modern AU where they're all acting in a porno based in the Arthurian legends._
> 
> I apologise greatly to the cast of Monthy Python for that summary, adapted from [Knights of the Round Table](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AGvxoWytMig). I should also apologise to all the pairings that got steamrolled by the plot that insisted on happening, most of all the Arthur/Gwen. Sorry.
> 
> All the kinks, including the dub-con/non-con play and the incest play are fully consensual and agreed upon beforehand, bearing in mind that they are scenes and the porn stars are, in most cases, acting. However the line does get a bit blurry due to the reincarnation memories so they should still be considered real warnings.
> 
> Everything in the fic has either been taken from canon (and turned into porn) or taken from the legend (and turned into porn) with the ending obviously being just porn. Because I love a happy ending ;)
> 
> Thank you to Kitty for making my taking part so much easier and fun and to the other mods for hosting the fest. And thank you to all the people in the Merlin Chat for all their help and cheerleading, M and Emma (of non-chat fame) for the early read-throughs and Bekah for the still wanting to read this no matter how much I bitch to her about it. I love you all <3
> 
> This is also my entry for NaNoWriMo '13 - as you can see it didn't quite make it but I'm quite proud of it as a first attempt :)

Morgana was the first to arrive. She usually was. Thought usually she wasn’t _Morgana_. It wasn’t her real name, certainly but it wasn’t even the name she’d picked out for the industry. But her agent said it was part of the contract, the same for everyone. Don’t tell them your name, answer to the character name, pretend you _are_ the character. A quirk of the director’s. It had something to do with keeping it _real_ and in character. She’d laughed and asked _since when did anyone give a damn about whether porn was in character?_ But hey, it was his set and his money, she’d pretend to be Tinkerbell if it got her a decent pay check. So she got used to thinking of herself as Morgana.

She had a few moments to check over her call sheet before she went for makeup. She had been booked for three whole days, she expected she’d be kept busy. She wasn’t disappointed. She’d be starting off with a girl/girl scene with the regal _Guinevere_ , before she was regal apparently, then she’d get her claws into the legendary _Arthur_... oh and his queenly wife, she’d not been told about that one. That was fine, she loved a good threesome. The next day she had a boy/girl scene with the magical _Merlin_ followed by more girls only stuff with Guinevere. But both of those were darker than anything she’d be doing today, getting more into the BDSM side of things. Then one final scene with just Arthur, to ramp up the forbidden incest aspect, the thing that made her character famous, to round that day off. The last day, of course, was the day when the hardcore scenes came out to play. Gangbangs and bukkake and orgies, oh my.

Morgana smiled to herself. That would be where she was most comfortable, she was a hardcore girl through and through. She’d almost not auditioned because there’d be no latex, no leather, no interesting toys to play with but once she’d learned who she’d be playing, well, who wouldn’t want to be Morgana? She was one of the most infamous villainesses of all time. All that dark power, all that witchcraft and she was banging her brother, the king, to boot. She couldn’t wait.

“Morgana,” a voice called her and brought her out of her imagination. “Makeup.”

“Coming, darling,” she said, grabbing her handbag and phone. She’d learned the hard way not to trust porn sets with personal belongings. Everybody wanted a souvenir.

She slipped through the door being held open for her and paused for a moment. Alright, so she hadn’t been the first one there after all. She smiled and recovered herself quickly, holding out her hand to her co-star.

“Morgana,” she said, her name for the next three days rolling off her tongue almost too easily.

“Guinevere. Or Gwen. I think Gwen is ok when we’re not on camera.” The woman, Guinevere or maybe just Gwen, took her hand and half held it, half shook it. Morgana looked her up and down. She was like fucking Bambi. Big brown eyes, smooth exotic looking skin. But oh so new. Morgana could almost smell her like the fresh meat she was. God, she’d love to have her on her own terms, in one of her own films. She just needed someone to teach her how it was done. Perhaps that’s what tomorrow would bring.

“A pleasure,” Morgana said, her face and tone not even hinting at her thoughts.

She threw herself down in the makeup chair and kicked off her heels, putting her feet up on the table. It was a display. She wanted to make sure that Guinevere knew she was completely at ease here, she was a pro. She wasn’t one of these little girls that wanted the money or the fame. She wanted the sex and the power. She wanted to be infamous.

Gwen sat down beside her, the complete opposite, completely polite, completely respectful. Morgana considered getting her phone out and passing the time playing Candy Crush while she waited for the makeup artist to get her arse in gear but something in her, the mistress in her, ached to take this sweet little girl under her wing.

“Is this your first shoot?” she asked, giving in to her social urges.

“Oh, no. It’s my-” She broke off to think about it. “Seventeenth.”

“First time doing a girl then?” Morgana asked, confusion creeping in.

“Nope, I actually started out doing only gay scenes before I branched into straight too,” Gwen answered wistfully. “It was a relationship thing. Don’t ask.”

“Oh, one of those, was he?” Morgana asked, a knowing smile creeping over her face. So many boys thought they’d love to date a porn star but then the reality set in. The new half way ground was that they’ll be cool with their girlfriends being gay for pay but it usually ended the same. And very few girls could expect to have a long career if they only ate pussy. Not everyone could be Sinn Sage. The break up was inevitable, taking cocks on a regular basis even more so.

Morgana looked her over again, the girl’s hands twisting in her lap, her feet tapping away. “Why so nervous then?”

“I’m always like this. It’s like a first date buzz, don’t you think?” Gwen said, smiling shyly as if there was a secret joke to be shared.

“Go on,” Morgana said, inclining her head.

“Well, we all know it’s not what good girls do but from the moment we meet, I can just look at you and I know we’ll end up having sex, just like that first date.”

Morgana laughed loudly and honestly too, which was a rare thing. Damn, she was good. She wasn’t shy or new or Bambi. She was the girl next door, the vicar’s daughter, _the good girl_ and she played it scarily well. She’d certainly been fooled.

“I like you,” Morgana said, candidly as she dared. She wasn’t quite used to actually liking people before she fucked them.

“Thank you,” Gwen said, the shy, innocent smile back in place, holding her eye.

The makeup woman clattered in and broke their moment. Morgana rolled her eyes, both at the interruption and herself. Who cared if their flirting got blocked, she was literally there to fuck her.

-x-

“How are we doing? Any no shows?” Arthur asked as he breezed in with his coffee. He knew he was being an arrogant dick and he should probably just sit down with the rest of the talent but this was his first production, the first time he’d be in charge, not just starring in a few scenes. 

“The girls are in makeup, your Merlin is waiting for you and everyone else is on an afternoon start. Just the core four this morning,” an assistant told him. He nodded along.

“Good,” Arthur said, beaming.

It had taken him an age to convince his father that he could handle his own production, that there was more to him than just golden hair, blue eyes and a generously sized cock. He couldn’t deny though, this shoot was personal. He wasn’t just using it to get all his favourite talent together in one film, although that was true but he was indulging in his own dream, his own fantasy.

Being from money, there had always been jokes, royal titles connected with his name. It wasn’t exactly a great leap from Arthur to _King Arthur_. Especially since that film where Keira Knightley went around half naked as Guinevere. Not that he was complaining about that.

But it was more than that, he'd sat down and read all the myths and legends and fairy tales. It was strange, and one of those things only pretentious people say, but something in him clicked with that Arthur. Be he the warrior king fabled to defy death and return or the poor sod whose wife ran off with his best mate, Arthur felt him. 

And he wanted to bring him back, bring him to life in the way he saw him. But he couldn't write a book or make a real film, not that it hadn't been done to death already. No, he was good at telling who worked well together, when to kiss gently and when to bite hard. He could take the freshest little newbie and make them so comfortable; it was like they'd been fucking in front of a camera their whole lives. So he took what he had and worked it around Arthur and Merlin and Guinevere and Morgana. He'd tailored bits and pieces to make it sell and he'd pitched it. Now here he was, ready to actually be Arthur for once rather than just reading about him. He couldn't help acting like a prat.

He grabbed a bunch of papers from an assistant, ignoring the most of them; he knew the scripts and the scenes backwards. He just wanted to make sure everything was going to be perfect for the next few days. He took a moment to go over each clean bill of health, even his own. Even if the industry didn't have decided preference against them, he would never get away with condoms in the Middle Ages. He double checked his schedule, it was a long one. But it was a long story. He’d spread everyone out over three days, hoping that would be long enough. If he was honest, he knew he'd written too much, planned too much for a simple two hour film. He'd been thinking about it like it was actually a film or a TV show, giving each character and each fuck a back story. He couldn't help it, he couldn’t just have them bear the names of the characters, he had to have the story too.

He looked over the script again. Alright, so maybe it wasn't exactly true to the legend but he couldn't let go of some of his left field ideas. Like Guinevere being a maid first, pulling at Morgana's corset strings or Merlin being his own servant, full of banter and sexually charged bickering. He just couldn't get it out of his head. So fuck it, maybe he'd create the first ever porn-drama miniseries. Perhaps they could even broadcast it on the Beeb after all the kids had gone to bed. They'd shown Anne Boleyn’s tits often enough, hadn't they?

Arthur sighed to himself, giving up that dream. Porn was porn was porn. There was no getting that past the BBC. No, this was how he was doing it, this was what he had. And this way, he didn't have to censor his ideas. Guinevere could have her cake and eat it too. Morgana could be sexy and evil; she could use her sexuality, not just her magic. And he could have everything he'd ever dreamed of, Guinevere and Merlin and Morgana and his knights. The world didn't have to end because people couldn't share. It was so simple in theory, it seemed almost mad that it nobody else had thought of it.

Arthur shook his head. Sometimes he got sucked too far into it, like a highly addictive video game. Sometimes it seemed like he had the whole legend and more running through his head on a constant stream. It was time to get it out there.

He had Morgana and Guinevere, himself and Merlin to look after this morning. Two other knights would come in the afternoon for the softer gay scene but he doubted he’d get to see them. The rest of the knights wouldn’t be needed until the last day. Today would culminate in the scene between himself and Guinevere, with Morgana overseeing them. Tomorrow would see Lancelot’s betrayal, Morgana's fall into darkness, her turning to dark magic to help him, trying to sway Merlin and force Guinevere to return to him. It would also see his seeking solace in Morgana's arms, before he lost her as well. The darker parts. The parts that he’d had to really fight for. The day after, that'd be how it should have gone. The legend that should have been. A golden age. Perhaps he should have marketed it as a trilogy.

Arthur turned a corner, knowing he only had one more corner before he had to see him, his Merlin, for real. He'd seen head shots and photo sets, he'd even seen him in action before on film but he'd never actually worked with him before. He'd never even met him. He was almost nervous.

He turned that last corner, his _welcome, hope you're well, isn't it nice weather we're having_ speech on the tip of his tongue but it caught in his throat. He was already dressed, exactly as Arthur had imagined him. He couldn't say he'd done much research into the clothes if the era, they wouldn't be on him long enough anyway, but in his blue shirt, brown jacket, plain simple trousers and a weird little red scarf thing around his neck, it just seemed right.

"Merlin," he said uselessly, hoping it came across as a question and not just a vocalisation of the gut reaction he'd had upon seeing him.

"For now at least," Merlin said with a nod, not getting up but looking Arthur up and down instead. "And you're Arthur, I can tell."

"Is it that obvious?" Arthur said, hoping that it was a good thing; he was suited to his character.

"Yeah, you look a right royal prat," Merlin stood finally, giving Arthur yet another chance to take him in. Tall, like himself, thinner though. And he did have an almost magical quality to him, like you could put him in some pointy ears and he'd make a good elf. Arthur knew from his body of work that he was typically a bottom and a sub but he was one that talked back, acted up, got pushy. He was perfect and he was damn well starting already. That was alright; Arthur was already imagining fucking him face first into whatever the Middle Ages used for a mattress.

"And you're late. I got dressed without you." Merlin glanced over to the door of what could loosely be called the men’s wardrobe department. "Good luck getting into yours."

Arthur eyed the door. He knew full well what he had to look forward to but he wasn't about to let Merlin win. "Come on, you can help. You'll be taking it all off later anyway; you may as well learn what you're doing."

Merlin gave him a sarcastic smile then a scowl but when Arthur did nothing but grin brightly, he finally pushed the door open with begrudging camaraderie. 

-x-

Morgana looked at herself in the full length mirror. She'd been run through makeup quickly. Obviously back then they didn't believe in fifty layers of foundation and so much lipstick and eyeliner that one felt more like a painting than a person. No, she'd got though makeup quickly. Guinevere, even quicker.

Now she was in wardrobe, being plied with pretty silks. She was already eying the various black lace dresses that would come later. In the end they went with a dark red, almost plum, halter dress that clipped into a golden chain necklace. Around her waist was a golden belt of leaves. She wasn't sure if halter necks were the fashion back then but it suited her and it suited the job. It covered enough to be regal, it was swanky enough to say _princess_ and it screamed sex appeal.

She usually kept her jet black hair either pulled back, tight and slick, in a high ponytail or loose and flowing. Whichever best fitted the scene, a harsh mistress or a decadent one. But today she wasn't a mistress, she was purely a woman and they'd made an effort to make her look like one. They'd piled all her hair on top of her head, clipped and pinned at the back and allowed to fall down in curls in the front and at the sides. She looked like an elegant version of a hot damn mess. Overall she liked it. By the time she was done, she was raring to go.

She was brought through to the set. It wasn't really a set, more of an old – really old actually – castle that had fallen into disuse. But the room she'd be using had been tarted up with all manner of furniture and drapes. Most productions didn't give a fuck about anything more than the bed. And what a bed they'd given her. Four poster, classical, with a real carved wooden frame. The bedding was simple but fitting, crisp white sheets, velvet throws, feather pillows. She was actually quite impressed. 

She made herself comfortable in one of the director chairs, taking liberties she knew she could get away with. They brought Guinevere out after a while. Her costume was simple but in a way, more complex than her own. She had on a lilac dress, made of some thick, and no doubt poor, fabric. But over it, she had a little bodice. Laced up at the front and pulled tight, mostly white with lavender flowers dotted over it. It was a little cutesy for Morgana's own taste but she appreciated that it suited Gwen and her character. It even offset her own _scandalous_ dress rather well.

"My lady," Guinevere said with a mock curtsey as she approached Morgana in her chair. That was another thing Morgana had liked about the script, she was getting a future queen for a maid. The power dynamics were making her tingle already.

Morgana gave her a smirk and tapped the chair beside her. "One for Instagram?"

Gwen gave a shy smile but nodded eagerly. That was the latest thing. Sneak peeks. Behind the scenes. Being on a personal level with the fans. She did it all, twitter, tumblr, vine, she even had an ancient, rarely used Facebook somewhere. Some girls were better suited to it than others. Usually the ones that actually enjoyed their work and adored their fans. She was one of those ones and took as many pictures as she could get away with.

Gwen pulled her chair close and puckered her lips, Betty Boop kissing Morgana's cheek. It was cute. Morgana typed out a quick caption, _found myself a lil doe_ and hit send. It would get a few curious hits but as it was on Instagram, they'd know she wouldn't have her tits out. That would come later.

"Are we doing photos first or going straight for it?" Gwen asked, regarding the set before her.

"Isn't it always photos," Morgana said with a sigh. She didn't understand the call for the lengthy photo shoots, they rarely used the photos unless they were selling them as a set and come on, if you had a choice between looking at stills and watching it on video, who was going to choose the photos? But it was how these things went and at least it gave her a chance to get to know her co-stars before she had to start acting as well.

"Yeah, I hate it. All the stopping and starting. It's not natural," Gwen said, matching Morgana's sigh.

"So, who else are you booked with?" Morgana said, curious as to who she'd be sharing her little doe with. Perhaps if she was still around, they might let her watch.

"Arthur, of course and then Lancelot tomorrow. Yourself again. And then the group scenes, I haven't looked over the cast list for those yet. All I know is it's us two girls watching and a fuck load of boys. Literally." Gwen smiled that smile again, the one that some girls wear when gossiping. The _I’ve got a secret_ smile. Of course, this was Gwen’s secret.

“You’ve got it easy, babe, trust me.” Morgana found her sheet in the depths of her handbag and handed it over, watching Gwen’s eyebrows climb up with every name.

“You’re not going to walk straight for a week,” Gwen said distractedly and handed the sheet back.

“I know, I can hardly wait,” Morgana grinned, knowing she was giving Gwen a predatory look but fuck it, she was hungry.

-x-

“Can I ask...” Merlin started, yanking at a buckle, trying to make it reach its intended hole. “What on Earth were you thinking when you said _hey, I want to do a porn shoot dressed like I’m going into battle_? This is going to be the least sexy costume in the history of porn, you know that right?”

“I’ve written it into the script, it’ll be fine,” Arthur said, trying desperately not to wince as the leather strap was pulled tight. In honestly, he’d wanted a whole lot more. He’d wanted the whole lot. Chain mail, plates, hell, even a sword. But he settled instead for a thin, nicely billowing shirt and a lone shoulder plate. That was the least he could do, he was a knight and a prince after all.

“Yes, I saw that. Let’s hope me getting you out of this is easier than getting you into it. Because that face you’re pulling right there - that one – if that’s anything like your O face, you shouldn’t be in porn.”

“If those are your ears, _you_ shouldn’t be in porn,” Arthur said back, getting huffy. It was perfect for them, for the characters at least, but the sexual tension was driving him mad.

“I don’t know, gives them something to hold on to.” Merlin pulled the strap tight again and this time it caught. “Not had any complaints yet.”

Arthur bit back a compliment, an instinctive _I bet you haven’t_ because he’d seen his work, there was certainly nothing to complain about. But he wasn’t about to tell him that. He wanted to push him down to his knees there and then to make him live up to his claim but professionalism stopped him.

“Come on then, let’s go find out if you’re as good as your word,” Arthur said, reluctant to leave it at that but cheered by the knowledge he’d find out himself soon enough.

-x-

“Alright girls, we’re ready for you!” A shout came from across the set. Morgana raised her eyebrows but got up anyway. She’d been expecting the man himself, the one who had organized this but that certainly wasn’t him. 

“Morning, Gaius, still not on National Geographic then?” Morgana said with a wide smile, turning her cheek ready for a kiss.

Gaius was a photographer and he’d somehow ended up stuck in porn. Word was he’d done one favour for Arthur’s father twenty years ago and he just kept getting roped in for more jobs until he gave in and signed a contract with Pendragon Pornography. Morgana loved him, she really did, he was such a sweetheart. He never looked at her with anything more than a professional, artistic eye and he never made her feel like she was being snapped by a dirty old man. She always counted herself lucky when he was behind the camera but she was always sad to see him still in the industry. She knew in his heart of hearts that he’d rather be rambling across the British countryside taking pictures of herbs and plants and fluffy squirrels.

“Hello, my dear.” Gaius paused and looked her up and down. “And what are we calling ourselves today?”

“The Lady Morgana,” Morgana said, holding out her hand for good measure and accepting the swift kiss she received. “At your service.”

“Ah, it suits you actually,” Gaius smiled and nodded. He never shied away from her hardcore shoots or her scary outfits but he did always make a special effort to compliment her when she was dressed normally. “And your lover for today?”

Morgana glanced over her shoulder. Gwen was waiting politely, if a little awkwardly, a few steps back. She beckoned her over with a wave. “Guinevere, this is Gaius, our photog for this morning... or are you doing the whole shoot?”

“Just this morning but I think Arthur wanted to play it safe and go with people he knew. You know what his father’s connections are like,” Gaius filled in.

“Makes sense, it’s his first time, bless him,” Morgana smiled indulgently, trying not to think about what sleazy alternative Uther could inflict on them before picking up the train of thought that she’d derailed. “Anyway, Gaius, this is Guinevere whom I’ll be corrupting over the next few days, I’m sure. Gwen, this is my beloved Gaius, the nicest guy in the industry by far.”

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Gwen said with reverence and a little bow. Morgana nearly burst out laughing on the spot.

“Thank you, dear,” Gaius said with a smile that clearly said to Morgana:, _I like this one_. So many girls in porn didn’t have time for the crew or their fellow stars these days.

“Shall we get started?” Morgana prompted to save them all from small talk.

“Yes, let’s.” Gaius motioned over to a window, its glass stained in red and yellow triangles. “If you could start off by pretending to undress her - not sexy, just like it’s the end of the day – and we’ll go from there.”

Morgana approached the window, standing so that her dress would capture her curves. The dress didn’t have any laces nor many fastenings so Gwen ran her hands over Morgana’s bare shoulders first, warming her up to the touch. Gwen’s hands paused mid-way down her forearms and Morgana heard the shutter click before they moved down again. Morgana couldn’t help but shiver, both from the touch and knowing she was on display now. She loved it but the first few clicks always made her nerves jangle like it was her first time again.

She felt Gwen’s hands move back up to her neck, unclipping the dress from the necklace. It would fall and reveal the long, cream expanse of her back. She’d tried to talk her way into a corset but they wouldn’t have it. Apparently they hadn’t been invented at the time. Realism in porn, who would have thought it? There was another click and she turned her head to glace over her shoulder, getting herself another two clicks, one when she kept her face straight and another as she smiled warmly at Gwen.

“Gentle touches,” Gaius said, starting on his list of gentlemanly terms for what he was directing. 

Morgana kept the smile warm and loving as an equally warm and loving hand was placed on her back. She waited for the camera click before she moved her position; turning so one breast was bared to the camera. It was barely more than sideboob but the camera clicked again.

She bit her lip for show, feigning indecision and turned fully, letting Gwen's hands glide over her back and shoulders as she moved. She risked a glance to Gaius to make sure she could move in for a kiss.

"Yes, yes, you go ahead," Gaius said with a wave of his hand. Morgana often wanted to progress faster than the camera and he was one of the only ones to give her free rein.

She raised her hands, finding Gwen's elbows. She turned them both a fraction to give Gaius a better angle as she leaned in for a kiss. She stopped short, Gwen's eyes fluttered close and she drew in a breath. Morgana held hers until she heard the shutter go then she gave in, surrendering herself to Gwen's lips for a moment. 

The sound of the camera blended into the background, Gwen's hands firm on her back, pulling her in and taking over every thought. The kiss was slow and languid enough that they didn’t need to hold for the photos. They could be caught in motion and frozen forever in a natural state. Those were the photos that looked best in Morgana’s opinion. Whether they were what guys wanted to get off to was another matter.

Morgana allowed one of her hands to come up to Gwen’s cheek, careful not to block the shot. Her fingers played over her cheekbone, up into her hair, moving slowly should Gaius want to catch it. Gwen’s hair was loose, only the sides pinned back to keep her hair from her face. She left it in place; she would need her hair out of her face for the oral shots.

“Shall we lose the rest of the dress now?” Gaius asked and Morgana broke the kiss with a smile. 

There were no lines in this part, no preamble. That kiss was almost the _getting to know you_ moment. Morgana knew if the girl wasn’t comfortable and at ease kissing, it would be an awkward shoot. Some of the gay for pay girls wouldn’t even kiss unless directed to. Even then it was played up for the camera, nothing natural about it. But Gwen was natural and comfortable. She’d enjoyed the kiss, the brief moment of something real. It was going to be a good shoot.

Morgana regained her composure, smoothing out her smile until only her eyes held a glint of it. Gwen’s hands slipped around her waist and over her hips, sliding under the dress and making it fall to the ground at their feet. Nobody had bothered to faff about with medieval underwear and she couldn’t help the small gasp that came from her when the cool air tickled where she was already wet. Gwen’s hands were still on her hips, she glanced down at them, appreciating the contrast of her pale skin to Gwen’s darker tone. It was very atheistically pleasing, even if she did say so herself.

“Intimate touches,” Gaius prompted delicately, breaking the spell. He’d gotten enough pretty shots, now it was time to give the paying customers what they wanted. 

“Staying here, Gaius?” Morgana asked. There was a certain allure to fucking by a window. It appealed to the showgirl inside her. It was even a real window for once.

“For a time,” Gaius allowed her, raising his eyebrow to say it wasn’t necessarily on script.

“Thank you, lovely,” Morgana smiled brightly at him and he snapped her.

“One for the personal collections,” he explained.

That was another thing they shared. They both liked real, candid pictures. Morgana’s went on social media sites while Gaius’ went in a portfolio to act as a demonstration of how well he worked with models. Both served a purpose but deep down, they just liked photos of people smiling, having fun.

The instant Gwen's fingers found her clit was the moment it all became clinical. Each touch was placed, held, photographed and released. She didn't find any real relief until Gwen lowered her mouth to her nipple, catching it gently between her teeth but sucking hard. Morgana gasped, her hand coming up automatically to cradle Gwen's head. She'd have a mark for sure.

"Good, good," Gaius muttered from somewhere seemingly far away. "Facing the window now."

Gwen pulled off with an obscenely wet sound. There was a mark. Morgana took a steadying breath and turned herself towards the window, bracing herself against the frame. She positioned her feet, one back, one forward and bent at the knee. Her back arched naturally and she stuck her arse out, legs spread enough and back bent low enough that she knew it put her cunt fully on display. She turned her head back to look over her shoulder.

"Good to go when you are," she told them both.

Gwen stood slightly to the side of her, bent over her arse, holding one hip tight with one hand and letting the fingers of her other hand brush teasingly against her lips. “So I feel.”

“Your fault, darling, all your fault,” Morgana said, her voice containing the edge of a purr. Gwen’s fingers were parting her lips; there was no sense in toning down her flirting now.

“Oh, I know what you like,” Gwen whispered, biting her lip and acting coy even though her words were anything but. “I’ve been watching you come since before I ate my first pussy. I know exactly how you like it.”

Gwen dragged a nail over Morgana’s clit to prove herself. Morgana hissed, pain triggering pleasure and making her rock back. Morgana shouldn’t have been surprised, she was widely known for her D/S porn and her love for S&M, bondage, power plays. She wasn’t ashamed to talk about it in interviews. That’s what drew her to this role in the first place. Even without the leather or the whips, she was clearly in a position of power in all her scenes. She was pulling the strings. But here she was being teased, having her strings pulled. She wasn’t surprised in the slightest that it made her hotter. This girl was a challenge. Morgana couldn’t wait to turn the tables on her, put her back in her place and have some fun with it in the meantime.

She pushed back into Gwen’s hand, trying to force Gwen’s fingers inside her. Gwen’s fingers slipped just out of reach, stroking her clit instead. God, she was good. Morgana kept her cool by mentally listing all the things she’d do to Gwen tomorrow, in the darker scene. She’d tied her down, tease her, ride her face like a fucking carousel. She’d spank her until her arse glowed like one of those mood candles. She’d make her come so many times-

“A few shots of your fingers inside her and then we’ll move on,” Gaius suggested, breaking through Morgana’s internal storm.

“Thank you, Gaius, you are a gentleman,” Morgana said, smirking back at Gwen as she finally gave in and pushed her fingers inside her. 

Morgana sighed. It wasn’t even that she was chasing an orgasm; she knew she would get enough of those before the day was out. She was just too hot, too eager to fuck. She needed something to fill her, even if just a few fingers for a moment. She still keened when the photos were taken and the fingers were removed. She was used to people in porn just sticking them in, not doing anything with them but Gwen gave it her all just as she had with the tit sucking. She was a rare find. Morgana made a note to get her real name at the end of all this.

-x-

Arthur flipped through the script again, just so he didn't start getting antsy. He noticed Merlin wasn't doing the same. He only noticed because Merlin was in fact working on the strap on Arthur's armour again.

"Will you stop that, you're setting me on edge!" Arthur snapped when he still couldn't focus.

"You're on edge? This is your show, what do you have to worry about?" Merlin asked, fastening the buckle again, more smoothly than any of his previous attempts. When it was done, he relented and leaned over Arthur's shoulder.

"This isn't just-" Arthur cut himself off. He couldn't begin to explain how much this shoot meant to him. "I just worked very hard on this, ok?"

"Alright," Merlin said but he didn't move. "Why don't you tell me about it then?"

"You should know already, we shoot in a few minutes." Arthur swivelled around in his chair, praying Merlin was joking.

"Yeah, I've got the script and the general idea. Explain why it's so... personal."

"Who said it was personal?" Arthur asked defensively.

"You did." Merlin smirked. "You’re all nervous and you're trying to do all this by yourself. The credits are going to look like some lazy fucker discovered copy and pasting." Merlin stared down at him, his gaze boring through him. "And you _are_ Arthur."

"I don't know what you mean," Arthur said dismissively.

"Yeah, you do," Merlin pressed on. "You've made this from the ground up, this is your baby, so to speak."

"So what if it is?" Arthur asked.

"Tell me about it. I want to know." Merlin was adamant, his hands coming to rest on Arthur’s shoulders, fingers brushing against Arthur's neck on purpose.

"I don't know that I can, you'll have to watch it unfold and see," Arthur said shortly. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell him. He did, if he could put it into words he’d want to share it with everyone but nothing he could say would be right. If he could put it into words, he would have written a damn book or something else that would be taken seriously.

“Tell me about me then, surely you can do that,” Merlin reasoned. “I’ll need to know if I’m to live up to whatever it is you can’t tell me about.”

Arthur looked at him. This close he could see every detail and that wasn’t helping. Merlin had always been abstract to him before. Now he was real. Now he had a hand on his shoulder and was breathing down his neck in an effort to see his notes. Arthur was at a loss for words again but for a completely different reason. “You’re just Merlin. I can’t explain it.”

“Sure you can, it’s all in that pretty little head of yours, just say it.” Merlin ruffled Arthur’s hair and Arthur made a grab for the offending hand, catching it by the wrist.

“Well, firstly, don’t be so damn familiar. I’m the prince, you’re just a servant,” Arthur started explaining but he couldn’t, that wasn’t it at all. He sighed and let go of Merlin’s wrist. “But you’re more than that. My destiny lies in your hands. You’re the only one who I can trust and you’re the only one who won’t betray me.”

“I sound like a sweetheart,” Merlin said, his hand returning to absently fiddle with the neck of Arthur’s shirt.

“You’re not,” Arthur said reflexively. “You’re a terrible servant; you’re always talking back and telling me hard truths. You never do as you’re damn well told and you spent all your time lying to me, which really bloody hurts because yes, you were sweet and loyal and I loved – Arthur trusted you. Is that what you needed to know?”

“No, not really but it will do for now,” Merlin said, pulling back suddenly. “Come on, we’ve got a scene to shoot and cocks aren’t going to suck themselves.”

“I think one of the knights can actually do that,” Arthur murmured to himself as he was pulled up. “Gwaine.”

“Alright then, my cock isn’t going to suck itself. Not when I can have you do it for me.” Merlin raised his eyebrows and looked him dead in the eye.

Arthur would have made some other quip in return but he was taken aback by the set. They’d somehow transformed the grounds of the ancient castle into what could be believed to be an actual street from the Middle Ages. Someone had even scrubbed the white walls of the castle to make them look nearly new. That’s where the magic would happen.

A shiver ran through him. It was like anticipation had melded with déjà vu to create some form of mutant super nerves. He’d chosen the location himself, for that very reason, it had just felt right but actually seeing it was something else.

Merlin whistled, breaking into his thoughts and summing them up with one sound. “Wow, you really are pushing the boat out, aren’t you?”

“I’ve got the money. Why not do it properly?” Arthur looked around again. He’d seen all the other sets yesterday but as this one took the longest to build, it hadn’t been finished when he’d left for the night. It was extravagant, he knew not many people would hire a whole castle for a porn shoot but it was the only thing he wanted to do with his money and he was determined to get it right.

“Is it right?” Arthur asked nervously.

“It’s perfect!” Merlin said, turning in a circle. “Honestly, Pendragon, I don’t know how you pulled it off but I like it.”

Arthur smiled. He wasn’t quite sure how he pulled it off himself but he appreciated the sentiment. There were a few extras milling about, just for the plot to work, but his eyes were on Merlin, taking it all in with a look of wonder. That’s why he’d done all this.

“So this is where you’ll come from,” he said, the idea that he was directing all this finally kicking in. “And I’ll be over here, abusing poor what’s-his-face.”

“And I’ll come and tell you that you’re being a bad boy, I know, I’ve read the script,” Merlin held out his hand, pulling Arthur along with him. “It’s practice we need. Like with that buckle, you do it enough times, it becomes easy.”

Arthur looked at him, confused. It was already easy for him; he’d been going over this for ages. But he indulged Merlin.

“This is the first time we meet, right?” Merlin said, positioning Arthur where he started but not moving to his own mark. “Tension from the start. I think we’ve got that down because you’re hot and I want you but we’re not meant to fuck today. Sexual tension, check. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Arthur swallowed; hoping heat didn’t rise to his cheeks. He did this for a living for fuck’s sake, it shouldn’t make him blush. “Yes, but that’s now. That’s us.”

“Alright but it’s the same principle.” Merlin leaned in close and Arthur held his breath. “You meet someone in the street and you feel that spark, you want them and it’s worse because you can’t have them so... it finds a way out. It’s energy, it’s not going anywhere until it’s released. We fight a bit, we fuck a bit... alright so not quite fuck, mores the pity but you know what I mean. The tension just comes down to the want to fuck and the inability to fuck; it’s as simple as that. It’s human nature whether it’s now between us or then between them.”

For a moment, Arthur thought Merlin was going to do something to prove the tension between them but he just stayed there, way too close until Arthur had to take a breath or risk passing out. When he took that breath, hard and heavy, Merlin smiled, his point made.

“See, it’s all the same,” he said aloud, leaving Arthur reeling for a few seconds.

-x-

Morgana had been moved to a gauche looking chair, the one that belonged to the dressing table but was currently faced outwards so the world could see. She had one foot precariously balanced on the floor and the other one slung over the arm in order to give the camera a good view.

Gwen waited patiently while a few solo shots of Morgana were taken, a few just with her legs spread and a few touching herself. Even though they were the most boring, simple things, Morgana put on a show because she knew Gwen was watching her.

“Alright, my dear,” Gaius said to Gwen, breaking the eye contact she had with Morgana. “If you could kneel. We’ll do a few clothed and a few as nature intended, as they say.”

Gwen nodded and approached Morgana, sinking to her knees between Morgana’s thighs. She held her gaze, blinking slowly and smiling easily as she was photographed. Fucking Bambi again. Morgana suppressed a shiver and the urge to grab her by the hair and make her stop being such a tease. Her knuckles were white on the arm of the chair she was grasping. She hooked her other hand under her propped up thigh so that she couldn’t reach out with it.

Gaius gave them a nod and Gwen ran her hand up Morgana’s leg, starting at the arched foot on the floor and working her way up Morgana’s smooth, pale calf, pressing kisses to the points where her fingers had caused hitched breaths. She eventually got a gasped “fuck” when she kissed the inside of Morgana’s thigh, teeth scraping as she pulled back again.

“Gaius, make her do something!” Morgana all but shouted, the teasing bringing out her fiery temper, burning on a short wick.

She heard a chuckle from Gaius and a small giggle from Gwen but neither did as she asked. That was the problem with always being in control, everyone wanted to watch as that control slipped. She had to endure more feather light touches and promising kisses before Gaius finally cleared his throat, telling Gwen to move on.

Gwen laughed again but this time it was darker, unmistakably sexual and it did nothing to calm Morgana down. She pushed her hips forward, trying to speed up the process but neither Gwen nor the camera were having it. It felt like hours passed before Gwen’s arm tightened around her thigh and her tongue pressed to her clit. This was cunnilingus for the camera, _painting the fence_ as they called it. No real pleasure to be had from gentle flicks of the tongue that were barely there but it looked pretty and it was something better than nothing at all.

Morgana hummed, soothed a slight bit from the sight of Gwen eating her out if nothing more. She followed Gaius’ directions, changing her position so it looked like Gwen was spending ages pleasuring her, not just a few moments. Then he called for Gwen to undress as well.

Morgana bit her lip to stop herself keening at the loss of Gwen’s touch but perked up again watching her strip. She watched with bated breath as she pulled each string loose and shrugged off each layer. Morgana didn’t even try to hide the fact she was staring. Hell, she knew she looked full on lecherous but she’d been kept on edge too long to care. She vaguely heard a camera click and wondered who was being snapped, herself or Guinevere but she couldn’t take her eyes off Gwen long enough to find out. It was all she could do to keep herself from touching herself there and then, professionalism be damned.

Gwen returned to her, her handmaiden’s dress staying in a pile out of shot. Morgana took in her curves, so insanely perfect. Generous and well rounded tits, a waist that drew in just right, hips that she longed to wrap her legs around and the garnish of recently waxed Brazilian above flushed pink lips, glistening wet already. Morgana almost wished she was the one eating her out. Maybe if she played her card right.

Morgana tried to focus her mind as Gwen repeated her dance, teasing at first and then kitten-licking at her clit until the camera had enough. They were supposed to move on to filming after that but when Gaius wished them luck for the rest of the shoot and departed; Gwen made no move to get up.

“We need to get dressed, we’ll have to start from scratch in a moment,” Morgana reminded her, making another move to sit up but Gwen’s hands on her thighs stopped her.

“Then we have a moment,” Gwen argued, her fingers playing over Morgana’s skin.

Morgana raised her eyebrow. This certainly wasn’t on the script, nor was it on the schedule but as Gwen leaned in, not with kitten-licks but full on great swipes of her tongue, Morgana decided she wasn’t going to quibble those small facts.

Now there were no cameras, Morgana let her legs fall down and drape over Gwen’s shoulders. As Gwen buried her face in her cunt, sucking her clit until she wanted to scream with the intensity of it, she let herself grab a handful of Gwen’s hair, being careful not to pull it from its clips.

“Fuck, fuck,” she swore, gasping for breaths she couldn’t get in fast enough. “Gwen!”

Gwen pulled back and looked up at her, mouth shining wet and her tongue darting out to lick her lips. “Yes, my lady?”

“Don’t fucking stop!” Morgana said, breathless and wrecked. 

Gwen bowed her head, her hair falling into her face and the image spurring on Morgana’s need. “Yes, my lady.”

Morgana curled her hand around the back of Gwen’s head, determined to keep her there now as she was pushed closer and closer to her orgasm. She could feel it building with every touch of Gwen’s tongue, every kiss she gave, every nip of teeth. She was sure she heard the crew start to assemble but she couldn’t find it in herself to give a fuck. All she cared about was Gwen and her beautiful mouth. All she could think about was what she’d give back to her later, when they weren’t running on borrowed time. All she could do was let herself come, quickly and easily.

-x-

It had taken a while to get them set up properly, what with being outdoors and having extras. They’d all be sent away before the main event, of course, this wasn’t a supposed to be a Public Disgrace kind of thing.

Arthur wondered if maybe he should have rewritten it so they weren’t outside. But this is how it had come to him and he was loathe to change it. He’d already had to change parts of the legend to suit his purpose and parts of how he thought it should be to fit the legend, he didn’t want to mess with it any more than he had already.

“Ready?” Merlin asked him, knowing that somebody was going to usher them to their places soon enough and that would be it, they would have started. Nobody else could seem to see how Arthur’s act of bravado was a cover for his nerves. Merlin wasn’t quite sure why he could see it; it was a good enough act.

“Yep, let’s go,” Arthur said, sounding almost too eager.

Merlin nodded at him before he headed to his mark on the other side of the set. The camera would follow him to Arthur so it was up to him to lead, for the first moment at least. He watched, mentally going over his lines as Arthur talked to the extras, making big gestures with his hands. It was all Merlin could do not to laugh. Maybe they’d make a director out of him yet.

There was a nod, a shout and the sound of boards clacking together. This was it.

Merlin drew in a breath and tried to keep calm, Arthur’s nerves spreading to him now. He didn’t normally get nervous – exited, sure – but he didn’t usually get worried. Merlin chalked it up to how passionate Arthur seemed to be and tried to swallow it down as he started walking.

Arthur was seemingly throwing knives at a target – a human target at that – but Merlin knew they weren’t real. Their insurance didn’t cover that. He still managed to get a good few to stick before Merlin approached. Arthur’s eyes met his and on cue, the extra dropped the target, sending it rolling to Merlin’s feet.

He caught it under his boot and caught Arthur’s eye again. With him looking back at him so intently, Merlin thought it would be more difficult but the words seemed to come out of him before he’d even thought to speak them. “Hey, come on, that's enough.”

“What?” Arthur looked at him, his tone incredulous and his face becoming a character as the only other camera was aimed at him. Usually they’d have to do it three times over for all the angles but Arthur had decided he wanted to film it as close to real time as he could. 

“You've had your fun, my friend,” Merlin said, the lines still flowing as if he knew them by heart. Perhaps, if porn didn’t work out, he could try acting, he thought before Arthur caught his attention again by approaching him.

“Do I know you?” Arthur asked, looking him over like they’d never met. The words flowed easily from him because he did know it off by heart, he had dreamed it all up, he felt like he’d lived it a thousand times but only now was it becoming real. He looked down as Merlin offered him his hand to shake.

“Er, I'm Merlin,” he said, hesitating only slightly on his newly found name.

“So, I don't know you,” Arthur concluded, ignoring the hand in favour of staring at him again.

“No,” Merlin said, with the distinct feeling that if anyone knew him, his character, it was Arthur.

“Yet you called me _friend_?” Arthur pointed out.

Merlin backtracked, remembering what he’d said. That wasn’t part of the script and this wasn’t either. “That was my mistake,” he said, offering Arthur a way out should he want to start the scene again. 

But Arthur didn’t take it, he kept on, the script forgotten but his tone still that of the condescending prat. “Yes, I think so.”

“Yeah,” Merlin said, taking on the same tone, mocking him now. “I'd never have a friend who could be such an ass.”

Around this point, though on different circumstances, the script had called for him to try to walk away, to ramp up the tension, so he took the moment to turn and take a few steps.

“Or I one who could be so stupid,” Arthur said to his retreating back. They were still going down this road then, Merlin took it. That was fine by him, he could name call like the best of them. He turned with each word uttered by Arthur, his eyes on the floor. “Tell me, Merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?”

Merlin had to stop himself smiling. Of course he knew how to walk on his knees; he’d be doing it soon enough anyway. He kept the image of himself on his knees, sucking off his king, having his hair pulled and his mouth fucked until he tasted come at the back of his throat, in his mind as he raised his eyes. If looks could fuck, Arthur would be the one on his knees and he wouldn’t be walking anywhere for days.

“No,” he said instead, just to be annoying.

“Would you like me to help you?” Arthur offered and Merlin had to suppress the urge to say _oh yes, God, yes..._ but he wasn’t supposed to be sucking Arthur’s cock. Not today at least.

“I wouldn't if I were you,” Merlin said, reining himself in and hoping to pull Arthur with him. They needed to get back on script.

But Arthur laughed, ignoring his valiant attempt. “Why? What are you going to do to me?”

The thoughts of what he’d like to do came back to him and he could feel he was hard already. Not exactly something to be embarrassed about in his line of work but still, he’d rather it be on his own terms, not Arthur’s.

He took a breath, trying to quell every urge he had to show Arthur just what he could do with him. “You have no idea.”

“Be my guest,” Arthur said and Merlin blinked. Was he supposed to blow him or swing for him. He couldn’t remember. “Come on! Come on! _Come on._ ”

The last one snapped something in Merlin and he surged forward, not sure if he was going to deck him or kiss him. Arthur caught his hand and twisted him, using his momentum against him. Deck him, apparently. He could feel Arthur’s cock hard against his arse. Perhaps he should have gone with the kiss. Perhaps they both should have stuck to the script and then they’d be at it by now.

Arthur pulled him in as tight as he could go with his arm wrenched halfway up his back. Merlin wondered if they were still bothering to roll the cameras at this point, it wasn’t exactly porn territory anymore. “I'll have you thrown in jail for that.”

Merlin tried to forget he knew who he was, what having him pressed up to him like this leads to for the both of them. He tried to erase everything and with his heart thumping and his mind racing, he was certain he did a good enough job with, “what, who do you think you are? The king?”

“No. I'm his son, Arthur,” Arthur said, putting Merlin on his knees like he’d promised to.

Merlin turned his head, looking up at Arthur. This was a bit more like it. This he could get back to the promised blowjob scene. However, whoever was behind the camera didn’t share his optimism and yelled cut at them just before Merlin could suggest it.

“What are you doing?” Arthur shouted at the offending voice, spinning on his heel to look at the monitor that held the footage. Alright so they’d fucked up the script but it was his bloody script, his film.

“You pushed him out of shot, sir,” the poor crew member answered sheepishly.

“Oh. Right. Well...” Arthur watched the scene back over. It was perfect. Alright so no blowjob but it was more natural than the scripted words had been. It had all just come from them, completely from the heart... or from the cock, whatever. “Keep it. I have a better idea.”

-x-

There were a few small coughs and politely adverted gazes when Morgana pulled her legs down from their position on Gwen’s shoulders but for the most part, nobody was shy. It was a difficult industry to be shy in after all.

“Just warming up, gents, no need to blush,” Morgana said, her cool mask slipping back into place despite how her knees were still trembling.

Gwen blushed too but Morgana was almost certain that it was part of her act, just as much as the ice queen was part of her own act. She smirked as Gwen handed her the plum dress, to tell her how much of that act she believed.

They were a few moments getting decent again but nobody complained. Not that she thought anyone would dare, even if they weren’t blatantly enjoying the show. Morgana decided to put them out of their misery as she helped Gwen re-lace her bodice. “Where’s our esteemed director then?”

“He’s got his own scene outside,” someone filled in helpfully.

“Well, that’s not fair.” Morgana pouted, her exhibitionist nature awakening again. “Can we not all fuck outside in the glorious sunshine?”

When she didn’t get an answer, she sighed. Sometimes being so intimidating was a blast but without someone to convince everyone she was a kitty-cat really, it made chitchat difficult at best. “It was a joke, no need to laugh.”

When all she got back were blank stares and a knowing smile from Gwen, she gave up and went with her persona. At least they might get shit done with her calling the shots. “Alright, how about this then: start off with some kissing by the window as she undresses me, you know the typical sweet lead in, moving to fingers.” She waved her fingers in demonstration. “Then Gwen eats me out in the chair, I eat her out on the bed? We’ve gone through half of it in stills already and the script is simple enough, it shouldn’t be too hard. You just point the cameras and try not to crap yourself if I look at you, ok? Great, let’s roll.”

Morgana turned to Gwen and rolled her eyes. Something seemed to happen to the male brain when faced with a dominant woman or lesbians. Today was going to be one of those days, since they had both to contend with. And she wasn’t even being that dominating today, so one could only imagine what tomorrow would be like.

She led Gwen over to the window and resumed her stance from earlier. She’d have words to say this time but it would be slower, they would feel less thrown about from one thing to the other. It wouldn’t be quite natural, only fucking for the fun of it was completely natural, but Morgana was certain she could have some fun with it. She knew Gwen was thinking the same thing as she looked over her shoulder at the crew, waiting for approval. The marker board slammed shut and she had her approval.

Morgana shivered with a sense of déjà vu as Gwen’s hands moved over her shoulders, brushing off some dirt that they both knew wasn’t there. How many times had they done this now? Could it only be just the once?

“So, it's whether I wear this little tease...” Morgana said, smoothing her hands over the dress she was wearing before sneaking a glance over her shoulder as Gwen unclipped it and the top slipped down, exposing her chest. “Or give them a night they'll really remember.”

“You will look beautiful in either, my lady,” Gwen said, her voice warm and heavy with hidden meaning. Well, it wasn’t exactly hidden, Morgana reminded herself, this was porn after all.

She turned to face Gwen, repeating her actions from earlier and bringing a hand up to Gwen’s cheek, stroking the blush she found there. “You’re sweet to say so, Guinevere.”

She pressed a chaste kiss to Gwen’s lips, echoed by a spoken, “thank you.”

Their gaze held for the camera, Gwen’s hands moving experimentally over her shoulder and her collarbone until she reached her breast, there she paused and bowed her head. “My lady.”

And that was it, the preamble over, the plot done and dusted. Morgana kissed her again, nothing chaste about it. She licked over Gwen’s lips, seeking out her tongue, tasting herself on both still. It wasn’t scripted but she found herself reaching for the laces of her bodice. Even if she was only allowed to open it a bit, she had to touch her, pay her back a little.

But Gwen beat her to it, her hand cupping the curve of her breast, her thumb circling over her nipple. She barely remembered the mark she’d been left with earlier until Gwen stooped to reclaim her nipple with her mouth, marking it again.

Morgana gasped, trying not to swear as Gwen’s teeth worried the nub, making it painfully hard again before finally, mercifully releasing it so that Morgana could kiss her again, harder until she could feel the clink of Gwen’s teeth against her own. When she felt Gwen’s hands on her hips, pushing her dress the rest of the way down, she spun obediently, maybe too quickly, like she knew what was coming. She didn’t care though, she braced herself against the window, kicking the dress away from herself and spreading herself open as best she could.

A lingering part of the mistress in her wished this was a little more hardcore, it would be a beautiful position to spank someone in and Lord, how she wished that someone could be Gwen. Perhaps tomorrow.

Gwen’s fingers found her clit and she hissed, her breath whistling through her teeth as Gwen stroked her still sensitive cunt. She heard some words, rising at the end, a question and she nodded vehemently, not caring what she was being asked so long as Gwen kept touching her.

The question became apparent as one of Gwen’s fingers slipped inside her, taking the heat away from her clit. She breathed a sigh of relief, she could have come had Gwen kept on but it would have been way too soon, way too telling.

She loosened her grip on the window frame, half expecting to take chunks of stone with her. She felt Gwen’s fingers curl inside her, a gentle warmth spreading through her where before she had burned. Turning, she offered Gwen a smile and pushed her arse out further, tipping her off without a word that she could stand to take more. She wanted at least three fingers inside her before she gave in and moved away from the window. Not that it mattered; they would still have to wait for camera, sound and lighting to catch up with them.

-x-

Arthur furiously scribbled down an idea, this time not bothering with lines, just writing _react_ to Merlin in big bold letters. Merlin wasn’t quite sure what he was meant to react to but according to Arthur, he’d done it perfectly the first time.

He’d been put at other end of the set and told simply to walk, this time down the street away from the castle. Just walk. _The rest would unfold_ , as Arthur liked to keep saying. It was doing nothing for his nerves, he’d never gone into a scene blind before and Arthur was getting more and more into it, determined that it would be perfect. It was starting to give Merlin performance anxiety. 

He heard Arthur shout from his end of the set and heard the boards hit together at his end. The extras started milling and he started walking. He was so caught up in trying to work out what to say when he got to Arthur that he walked past him without even noticing.

“How's your knee-walking coming along?” Arthur shouted at him and Merlin kept walking, cursing himself for a second for cocking it up and waiting for cut to be yelled. But after the last time, nobody seemed brave enough to say it.

“Aw, don't run away!” Arthur tried again. 

Merlin froze, biting his lip and letting out a halted breath, the word _react_ running circles in his mind. “From you?”

“Thank God,” Arthur said and for a moment, Merlin wasn’t sure if that was part of his act or proper thanks that Merlin had finally found his tongue. “I thought you were deaf as well as dumb.”

Apparently not thanks then. Merlin let the annoyance that Arthur seemed to naturally stir in him rise. 

“Look, I've told you you're an ass.” He turned to face Arthur, thinking as fast as he could when faced with that disgustingly gorgeous smirk. “I just didn't realise you were a royal one.” 

Arthur looked speechless for a second, looking around at the extras as if they could help. Merlin ran with his momentum, enjoying the upper hand. “Oh, what are you going to do? Get your daddy's men to protect you?” Merlin raised his eyebrows at the extras and Arthur dismissed them each with a sharp nod, catching on to where Merlin’s mind was leading them.

“I could take you apart with one blow,” Arthur promised, the implication hanging in the air despite the fact he was supposed to be starting a fight.

“I could take you apart with less than that,” Merlin promised in return, fairly certain he could. He’d give it a damn good try anyway, if he could just get his hands on the prat.

“Are you sure?” Arthur asked, approaching him, goading him, making him take several steps back until he hit the castle wall.

“Are you?” Merlin asked, dimly aware that the camera had followed them and both of them had to live up to their promises now. He was teasing a little, he couldn’t deny it but he really wanted to get Arthur’s back up enough for him to really prove himself. “Just one blow?”

“Just. One. Blow.” Arthur dragged out the words, each one sending a spark through him straight to his cock. That was something he could work with. Finally.

“Go on then,” Merlin said, nodding down to the ground. “Or do I need to teach _you_ to walk on _your_ knees?”

Arthur smirked and slowly got to his knees, making a point of putting on a show as he pulled Merlin’s cock free from his medieval excuse for trousers. There was a moment of nothing but teasing breath, Merlin knew deep down it was for the film, so they could take in his cock, hard and flushed and waiting to be fucked, but the glint in Arthur’s eyes had him wondering if Arthur didn’t leave it exposed for longer than necessary before he brought his lips to it.

His eyes locked with Merlin’s as his tongue danced over the head, a pretty picture and infuriatingly too little while still being a bit much. Merlin couldn’t help his hand reaching for Arthur’s head and pushing him forward until he had no choice but take it properly. He slid to the back of Arthur’s throat and a little further until he could feel it began to close around his cock as Arthur swallowed, then he pulled back, trusting Arthur to do a reasonable job now that he’d been put in his place slightly.

And he did, as if remembering his promise; he put his mouth to work, tongue gliding up and down his length and lapping at the tip, collecting pre-come when he could. Merlin let his head fall back, resting against the cold, hard stone of the castle. He could almost imagine Arthur on his knees scrubbing the stones back white again, that’s how much this odd little porno of his meant to him.

Merlin was brought out of his thoughts by a hand wrapping around the base of his cock, squeezing, telling him not to come yet. Merlin felt like laughing, he had no intentions of coming just yet. But he let Arthur squeeze. He kept throwing out the right moans and blasphemies as Arthur licked a stripe down his cock to the base before departing slightly to his balls, tasting them first with his tongue and then gently sucking at the skin, his hand squeezing again. Merlin smiled, it would take more than that.

When Arthur’s finger pressed against his hole, taking him by surprise, he swore in earnest, muttering something unintelligible about cheating. But Arthur didn’t breach the rim, he only teased at it, circling and pressing lightly, and that was worse. It got even worse when the heat of Arthur’s mouth left his balls and returned to his cock, taking him way too deep and way too fast. Merlin was sure he was fucked then, if purely out of unexpectedness, but somehow, with nails pressed into one palm, his fingers tugging on Arthur’s hair and his teeth nearly drawing blood from his lip, he managed to hold himself back, much to Arthur’s clear disappointment. He performed his trick again, trying to get the same reaction but Merlin knew his game now and braced himself against the stones, drowning out the screaming urge to let himself come.

Arthur glared up at him, those blue eyes nearly on fire, shining with tears at the strain of repeatedly swallowing down Merlin’s cock without taking a decent breath between each one. His fingers were still playing with his hole, still cheating, while his other hand finally left the base of his cock to grip the material of Merlin’s trousers, slowly and unintentionally dragging them down. 

Without his hand there, Arthur could take him to the root, face pressing against the stubble from where Arthur had requested he come as naturally as he was able. He could hold him there too, as long as his body allowed and each time he held out a little longer, fighting the impulse to gag or pull away to breathe. When he could feel Merlin struggle with his control again, he slipped his fingers forward and pushed up hard on the skin behind his balls, making Merlin swear and pull his hair hard enough to make his eyes water worse than the deep throating had. But as he eagerly swallowed down a mouthful of come and then milked Merlin for another, he deemed it worth it.

Merlin closed his eyes and fell back against the wall with enough force that he knew he’d feel it later. He was trying to pretend it had all gone to plan even though it obviously hadn’t. Sure they’d got the blowjob done, at one angle, but he wasn’t supposed to come until he was given permission to, until he didn’t need to be hard and ready to go again at the drop of a hat. And then when he did come, it was supposed to be over Arthur’s face or something like that, give the viewers something they could see. But the only person that had gotten anything was Arthur.

“I’m going to need a minute,” he said as he glanced down at the pain in his arse formerly known as Arthur. The bloody prat was grinning, ecstatic with himself.

“Told you I could take you apart with one blow,” Arthur said, sounding like the cat that got the cream. Or the prince that had got the come, at the very least.

“And I told you I could take you apart with less than that,” Merlin reminded him, gathering up all his energy and dragging Arthur to his feet.

Forgetting about the film for a moment, he pushed Arthur back against the wall, pinning him with his body. It would have been fucking fantastic had he still been hard himself but as it was he pushed his knee between Arthur’s legs, spreading them and feeling Arthur’s erection press against his thigh. It only took the barest nudge and Arthur grinded against him, pushing his cock out, chasing more friction. Merlin nearly rolled his eyes at how easy it would be to make him come. 

He tightened his hands on Arthur’s sides and almost like magic, Arthur pushed himself against Merlin’s body with more force, his hips stuttering as Merlin broke another one of pornography’s greatest rules by leaning in and kissing him, blocking the whole entire shot. Arthur took it one step further, his arms coming around Merlin’s back and grabbing at his arse, trying to hold him just right, perfect for him and fucking devastating for the camera. But nobody dared to yell cut.

Knowing that Arthur was close, or out of control at least, Merlin pulled back, earning himself a long string of colourful words. He slipped a hand into Arthur’s trousers, not even baring his cock for all to see. The tiniest stroke and Arthur was bucking into his hand, trying to get more.

“Do you want to give up?” Merlin asked, remembering the smug smile. He’d make Arthur beg for it before he let him come. At least they could use that.

“To you?”Arthur bit out but it didn’t hold any weight because he sounded wrecked, it was near enough a plea.

“Do you?” Merlin asked again, his fist tightening, squeezing warningly like Arthur had done to him. “Do you want to give up?”

“Fucking yes, I give up, you win,” Arthur shouted desperately and Merlin obliged him, speeding up his fist and giving Arthur what he needed, barely anything really. Pressed flush against him still, Merlin felt the come spread through the thin material of his trousers before he felt it hot on his hand as he glided over the head of Arthur’s cock, his promise kept.

Merlin pulled himself free and took a step back, not sure if he’d be fired on the spot or not. He rather hoped he wouldn’t be, if that was how hot just a blowjob scene could be.

“There's something about you, Merlin,” Arthur admitted, slumped back against the wall and looking at Merlin through half closed eyes. “I can't quite put my finger on it.”

“Ah, but you’d like to,” Merlin said with a knowing smile, wiping his hand on his shirt. His job was safe for the moment.

-x-

“So, about this future husband of yours then,” Morgana said, draping one leg over the arm of the chair and getting comfortable as the equipment was moved about. “What makes a prince fall in love with a serving girl?”

“What makes a Lady fall in love with a serving girl?” Gwen asked back, turning the tables.

“And who said I was in _love_ with you?” Morgana laughed, the implication outrageous to her. Porn was never about love. “Maybe I just wanted a right royal fuck from the future queen?”

“It’s obvious, don’t you think?” At a signal from a lighting lad, Gwen got on her knees and sat back on her heels. “I mean... when I run away with Lancelot, it’s not Arthur that comes after me, it’s you.”

“Yes, but then perhaps Arthur didn’t come after you because he was under me, you can’t blame the bloke.”

“And they say romance is dead,” Gwen said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “You do come after me eventually and that’s something. Especially in a porn film.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Morgana’s brow creased for a second thinking about it. She’d never had to think about plot or her motives in a porno before. She never had to think about a character before, she usually just played herself. Even with the script and the dresses and the elaborate hairdo, she’d never stopped to think this wasn’t her. It just felt like her.

“But then, you do fuck your way through half of Camelot to find me,” Gwen pointed out.

“I do not!” Morgana argued, scandalised. “Just Arthur... and Merlin... and then I get to you.” 

“And then we come home and watch the other half of Camelot fuck for our viewing pleasure,” Gwen continued.

“You’re terrible, you know that?” Morgana laughed again, being uncharacteristically giggly. She couldn’t seem to shake that feeling. The urge to laugh and smile and kiss her. It was altogether too weird and warm but she couldn’t turn it off.

“Ready,” someone shouted and Morgana smirked, back in a place she was comfortable with.

Gwen shuffled forward; there was no preamble this time. Editing would take care of that, make it all seem seamless. She started at the arch of her foot again, kissing her way up in real time now the camera was rolling. This time around, Morgana could take the teasing. She bit her lip and keened, playing the perfect wanton little Lady for the people that would end up watching it someday.

Morgana waited patiently and Gwen finally made it all the way up to her cunt, the kitten licks making a return as Gwen made a show of gently eating her out, her head resting on Morgana’s thigh as the camera focused in on Gwen’s face and her pussy, ducking under the leg she had hooked over the arm of the chair.

After ten or so minutes of the kitten licks, the type of cunnilingus that was visually pleasing but not very satisfying, Gwen finally let out a huff of breath and brought her fingers up to spread Morgana open, lapping at her cunt properly, collecting all of Morgana’s wetness on her tongue and dragging it back over her clit, making Morgana’s hips buck up from the sudden change of pace.

Out of the corner of her eye, Morgana saw the camera move up to her face, putting the pressure on her to make a good show of coming or faking it, if needed. She tried to ignore it, it wouldn’t be long until Gwen’s tongue had her shaking, she could feel it start to build already and if they really wanted to, the guys in editing could make it look like the instant Gwen’s mouth touched her cunt, she started screaming Hail Marys. The magic of cinema. Or cheap porn, as the case may be.

Gwen tightened her hold on Morgana’s thigh and Morgana pushed her hips forward, sliding down in the chair until she couldn’t sink any lower. The artificial porn moans gave way to real ones, peppered with swear words until she was begging Gwen for more, even as she got more. Gwen’s grip was all that kept her in the chair as she pushed two fingers inside Morgana’s cunt, soaked enough and still hungry from when Gwen had been fingering her before. She curled them up, pressing each one in turn against Morgana’s g-spot in turn until Morgana was near enough screaming. Whatever it was keeping Morgana together broke like a dam, gushing wet and warm over Gwen’s hand and soaking the chair while Morgana took shaky breaths, each one gasping out a breathless, “fuck.”

-x-

Arthur had taken up his spot in the director’s chair behind the monitor and was obsessively watching the footage over and over again. By this point, he could say both his and Merlin’s lines along with the film. He’d found himself doing exactly that on more than one run through.

Usually there would be a reset and they’d take it from the top but this wasn’t usual. There were blocked shots and the lighting left a lot to be desired, there were clear times when the mask slipped and you could see there was no script to speak of but there was no getting around it, this was exactly how he wanted it. A fair few eyebrows had gone up when he had dismissed the extras and anybody that wasn’t the bare bones of the crew, leaving him nigh on alone on the set.

So when Merlin sidled up beside him, he couldn’t help but jump slightly. He let the bloke linger for a few minutes, just in case he had a question or a comment to make but when it became apparent that he wasn’t going to say anything, Arthur pushed back from the screen and looked at him expectantly.

“You don’t have any other scenes today, do you?” he asked like he didn’t know the schedule backwards.

“Nope, just...” Merlin seemed to reconsider for a moment before he ploughed ahead. “Can I watch it back?”

“Erm,” Arthur paused, he’d never had a request like that before but he was sure there were no rules against it. “Sure. Do you want to sit?”

“Nah, I’ll just lean,” Merlin said, leaning over the back of Arthur’s chair for the second time that day.

Arthur took in a breath, resetting the picture and starting it again. He could feel the heat of breath on his neck and he had to suppress a shiver. Not half an hour ago he’d been coming all over the man’s hands, it was insane that this was the more intimate moment.

“What is it that makes it so perfect?” Merlin mused. “I mean, it is, it just _feels_ right but technically... I don’t even know if editing can salvage it.”

Arthur huffed. Anyone that tried to edit it would lose a finger but he wasn’t about to say that. He also wasn’t about to admit that he didn’t really care if it sold or not. He didn’t care if it even made it to the shelves. All he cared about was making it happen and nothing could stop that now. Somehow he summed it all up in one swift, “I don’t care.”

Merlin laughed, leaning closer, practically whispering in his ear. “No, you really don’t, do you?”

Arthur twisted his head up, tearing himself away from the footage. It put him right in the perfect place to kiss Merlin. The idea flashed though his mind, how he could just reach out and kiss him. No camera. No script. No pretence. He could just do it.

Merlin’s eyes flicked from the screen to meet his own like he could feel Arthur’s ideas forming in the air. Arthur found himself leaning, drawn in, breath held, chasing the promise his mind had conjured up but Merlin straightened up suddenly, flying out of reach.

“Don’t you have a princess to fuck?” he asked and Arthur felt the breath rush out of him like he’d been thrown into a wall.

“An actress, actually.”Arthur tried not to let his hurt feelings at the abrupt change of mood show on his face. It was just a job, it was just a fuck. He reminded himself that was all it had been with Merlin too.

“Have fun, I’ll see you tomorrow maybe?” Merlin said and Arthur nodded, even though they weren’t going to be sharing any scenes again until the day after. He watched Merlin take a few steps away before turning. “Don’t dare change a thing, alright? You may be a prat but you’re doing something right.”

Arthur quelled the urge to yell something back to him. It was like a reflex. He hadn’t lied earlier; there really was something about him. Arthur wasn’t sure he liked it all that much but it was adamant to be felt, whatever it was.

-x-

Morgana put her feet back on the floor; legs still trembling as Gwen licked her thighs and cunt clean, doing her utmost to avoid Morgana’s clit while she was still riding out tiny aftershocks. In that moment, the barest breath breathed the wrong way could have had her coming all over again.

When her vision cleared and she remembered where she was, who she was and who was licking her so thoroughly, she cleared her throat. “Sorry, I probably should have mentioned that.”

Gwen looked up at her, her expression positively devilish as she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. “Not at all, I like surprises.”

“Hell of a surprise.” Morgana tapped Gwen on the shoulders, getting her to rise. She quirked an eyebrow at the cameraman, telling him that script or no script, this was happening and he could film it or not, she didn’t give a damn.

She finished the job she’d started earlier, pulling loose the strings on Gwen’s bodice until she could work it open and push it from her shoulders. The cutesy garment fell to the floor and it was nothing at all to get the dress underneath it to follow. Morgana led Gwen over to the bed and pushed her down on it, straddling her body.

She'd seen her naked only a few hours ago but this was different, this time it had been her that had stripped her and Gwen's nudity was for her to behold. Well, her and whoever brought the DVD.

And what was more, this time, Gwen was hers to touch. She started at her lips, French kissing her in big exaggerated movements, claiming her mouth. Then her neck, biting and sucking until there were enough marks to satisfy her. Down over her collarbone until she could cup one of Gwen's breasts, taking the nipple into her mouth and sucking until Gwen cried out.

"You like it when I do it to you, don't you, Guinevere?" Morgana asked when she pulled off, flicking sly green eyes up at Gwen's trusting brown ones.

"Yes, my Lady," Gwen whimpered.

Morgana moved down over her stomach, pausing by her hip. She still had Gwen's tit in her hand so she pinched her nipple, not too hard but hard enough.

"Do you like inciting your mistress to debase herself by performing such lowly act on a servant? Is that what you like?" Morgana asked, her fingers trailing up Gwen's thigh to her cunt, finding her answer in Gwen's wetness.

"Oh God, yes, my lady!"

"Shush! I haven't even touched you yet," Morgana said with a smile, loving it really. She still brought her hand down over Gwen's flank, the shallow smack sounding harder than it was.

"Sorry, my lady," Gwen said, pulling back her excitement with a strain.

"You can save that kind of thing for when I do touch you. When I fuck you with my fingers and make you beg for my mouth. Isn't that right, my little Guinevere?"

"Yes," Gwen gasped out. Usually Morgana would let the lack if title slide. This wasn't hardcore after all. But the way Gwen's hands were fluttering, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides made Morgana hot. The girl clearly longed to touch herself and in kind, that made Morgana long to discipline her. She brought her palm down again over the same tinged pink skin. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, my lady. Please fuck me with your fingers and make me beg for your mouth." Gwen tossed slightly on the sheet and Morgana smiled, a wolf looking at a rabbit.

"As you asked ever so nicely," Morgana said indulgently and slid her hand between their bodies.

She brushed over Gwen's clit with her fingertips as she made her way down, delighting in the little yelp that came from her. Her cunt was wet and warm even before Morgana's finger entered her. She was so tight still and Morgana belatedly remembered that for all her service, this was the first time she’d been touched today. The thought made Morgana redouble her efforts.

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” Morgana asked, her voice inviting Gwen to agree. “Looking after your mistress so well.”

“My...” Gwen stopped, stammering as Morgana pushed another finger inside her, even though she was much too tight to take it easily. “My pleasure, my Lady,” she finally got out.

“No, Guinevere. That was _my_ pleasure,” Morgana corrected her. “This is _your_ pleasure. Enjoy it because I’m _giving_ it to you.”

Morgana leaned down for another kiss, trapping her hand between them and rubbing herself against her own knuckles. It was Gwen’s pleasure but there was nothing to say she couldn’t enjoy it too. With two fingers insider her, curling up and stroking down inside her, opening her, Gwen was already a mess. Morgana couldn’t blame her, she’d been waiting on edge the whole shoot, teasing and pleasing Morgana. But Morgana would hear her beg. She leaned to whisper in Gwen’s ear, “would you like my mouth now? Have you earned it?”

“Please, my lady, please,” Gwen begged. Her hands fisted in the sheets, threatening to rip them from the bed. “I want your mouth so badly and I’ve been good, a good servant. Fuck, Morgana, _please_...”

Morgana raised her eyebrows, not sure whether to punish Gwen for forgetting her title _again_ or enjoy the intimacy of being called by her character’s name. She decided to enjoy it and gave Gwen a rewarding smile. “See, my love, that wasn’t so hard.”

Gwen shook her head and watched through downcast eyes as Morgana nudged her way down her body until she was kneeling comfortably between Gwen’s open thighs, stopping to press kisses every so often, between her breasts, over her belly button, to the nook of her hip and the inside of her thigh. She didn’t tease though; it was a means to an end to get her to Gwen’s cunt. Gwen had earned it, had she not?

She licked up Gwen’s lips before spreading them with the fingers of her other hand. Keeping the two fingers she had inside her already buried deep, she lapped up the wetness that had dripped down her hand, getting a teasing taste of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the empty director’s chair was no longer empty. Finally the much spoken of but yet to be seen Arthur Pendragon had taken up residence. Morgana smiled up at him and licked her lips for effect. She was off script and she knew it. He’d know it too, it was his script. He had the power to tell her to get back in line and he was one of the few people she’d actually listen to. So she sold her idea to him with a seductive look and a grin and got an indulgent smile and nod in return. 

She returned her gaze to Gwen, still trying to get more from her fingers and trying to push her hips up to Morgana’s mouth. “Shush, darling, you’ll get it.”

Morgana lapped at Gwen’s cunt again, warming her back up so she could circle in on Gwen’s clit without over stimulating her too soon. When she was satisfied Gwen was ready, her legs shaking with the strain of holding themselves open, Morgana gave in and closed her mouth over Gwen’s clit, her tongue dancing over it until Gwen’s hand finally broke free and she wove her fingers in Morgana’s hair, too far gone to care about mistresses and servants and what she was allowed. When she had her like that, Morgana sucked, feeling Gwen’s clit pulse under her tongue. She didn’t relent until Gwen screamed and shook and swore her way through her orgasm, her cunt squeezing her fingers tight. 

She pulled back, sitting on her heels and watching Gwen come down. She was such a pretty sight, skin glistening with sweat, her hair damp with it and her lips bitten red and full. Morgana leaned forward to steal a kiss from those swollen lips before settling on the bed herself, smiling like the Cheshire Cat as she licked the last of Gwen’s wetness from her lips and let the girl wrap herself around her.

Morgana caught Arthur’s eye again. The cameras would have stopped rolling by now but she didn’t quite want to get up yet and frankly, Gwen was in no state to. Luckily he got the message and climbed down off his chair to perch on their bed.

“Sorry I missed the start, my scene ran on unexpectedly,” Arthur apologised before holding out his hand. “Arthur Pendragon.”

Morgana moved her own hand to shake his but the light caught it, still slick where she’d had two of those fingers in Gwen. “Sorry,” she said absently and brought the fingers up to her mouth, sucking them clean like she’d just eaten something sweet and sticky. An éclair perhaps. She offered Arthur the hand again and he took it. “Morgana. As I’m sure you know.”

Arthur nodded; glad she was taking her character seriously. It was an odd clause to put in a contract and he was worried some of the talent would simply laugh and refuse but it was music to his ears for them to pretend for one moment that it was all real.

“I think we should give your wife a moment before we ask her to fuck you too,” Morgana glanced down at Gwen who was watching them with slightly glazed eyes still. “I might have worn her out a bit.”

“I’m glad you did,” Arthur said warmly, reaching over to stroke Gwen’s arm by way of introduction. Gwen smiled warmly up at him in return. “It wasn’t in the script though, where did it come from?”

“I don’t know, she did so much for me – I wanted to do something for her. I was setting things right, that’s all.”

“Setting things right?” Arthur looked at her funny, like he was trying to read her mind and Morgana shrugged, uncomfortable under such scrutiny. All she did was go down on the girl.

“I don’t know, tit for tat?” Morgana let out a breath, relaxing when Arthur nodded and dropped his eyes. “Come on, we’ve got time before we shoot again, let’s get a coffee.”

-x-

Merlin was home by the time he got a spare second to think about the day’s events. It hadn’t been an unusual one, not by his standards, but Arthur... he was unusual. He was the perfect porn star and they were dime a dozen, all blond and tanned and arrogant, he was even better because he had an arse you could park a bike in and a mouth that looked like it had been sculpted with sucking dick in mind but that wasn’t what set him apart. Arthur himself had hit the nail on the head himself; there was something, he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

Shrugging away the thought, Merlin started making himself some lunch. Even though it had only been a morning shoot and the others would still be there long into the day, Merlin felt absolutely knackered. That was another thought he shook off, he hadn’t even been fucked properly, he had no right to be this tired. But he could still feel Arthur’s imprint all over him. He could remember everywhere he’d touched and everywhere he’d been touched. He could remember the nervous feeling of not knowing what to say and then the adrenaline he felt when his mouth and his body just seemed to take over and fill in the blanks as they’d seen fit. It was like being possessed only he knew deep down, they were his words.

He flung himself down on the sofa and hit some of the buttons on the remote to give himself some background noise as he ate. It landed on some historical drama and Merlin smiled wryly at the TV, appreciating its apparent sense of humour. He didn’t change it though. Perhaps he could even put it down as research. He watched with mild interest for a while, throwing berries into his mouth without even thinking about it, until his mind started to wander and he thought back to Arthur and his personal porn baby.

He’d not seen the girls yet; would they be in corseted dresses that left very little if anything to the imagination? It was porn so the chances were they would be. Would Arthur rack up tomorrow in a full suit of armour? Would he have a sword that glinted silver in the sunlight? Would he wear a heavy crown of pure gold upon his head? Would Merlin be called upon to shout _long live the king_? Or long live the prat, more like it.

Arthur’s voice returned to his head, _“You can’t address me like that!”_ and his own argued back, _“I’m sorry. How long have you been training to be a prat, **my lord**?”_

Merlin closed his eyes, imagining bowing low and opening them to look up at Arthur through his eyelashes. He’d never met a person he couldn’t drive wild like that. Arthur was no exception.

But no, wait, was that right?

Merlin opened his eyes again, his brow creasing in concentration. Had that been said or was that his imagination? The more he thought about it, the less he could remember. The words themselves had been such a blur, constantly changing and coming straight from the top of his head. He’d tried to watch the playback with a clear mind but the infuriating prat had been so distracting, he was still none the wiser. If anything, he was less wise. He’d let something about Arthur spark something entirely unprofessional in him. He’d come before he was given permission to, he’d blocked camera shots and lighting in his determination to get Arthur off and thinking about him doing a scene with someone else – probably with the taste of his come still at the back of his throat – the thought of Arthur’s cock in a woman, his on screen wife, before he’d had a chance to have it in him, had actually made him the slightest bit jealous.

Merlin switched the TV off before he inevitably saw a blond royal prat mount a throne. He was hard already, even his bitter twinged thoughts at the idea of Arthur fucking someone else was enough to stir his confused dick. It ached slightly, being hard again so soon after Arthur had wrung an honest orgasm out of him, but it wasn’t nearly uncomfortable enough to deter him. That was part of his list of talents that made him perfect at his job, usually. He could get hard, stay hard and come, all on command. The very fact that Arthur had made him come, rather than him deciding to come, was saying something. Another something to add to the list. There were so many bloody _somethings_.

He sighed and unzipped his jeans. He could ignore it. Another talent, if he tried hard enough, he could will it away even as someone else was trying to get it up. But what was the point? He didn’t have anything else booked for the rest of the day and he doubted the pesky thought of Arthur would leave him for long. Arthur was that kind of person, the type that embedded themselves under the skin and refused to be ignored. So Merlin didn’t ignore him.

He slid his hand over his cock, spreading pre-come and pretending it was the last traces of Arthur’s mouth, hot and wet but not nearly enough for him. He imagined Arthur up on that throne of his, wondering if the set had one. Perhaps they could find a glorified chair, red velvet and painted gold. He’d sit on it himself, even though he wasn’t a king. The king would have a better seat, Merlin decided, tightening his grip and resting his head against the back of the sofa. He’d sit on the throne and Arthur would sit on him, in his lap, his cock buried deep in his arse, him serving his king as his king served his kingdom. And if he wanted the woman too, his wife, whatever, he could have her. He was king after all; he could have whatever he wanted. But it would be Merlin fucking him. It would be him that had stayed by his side throughout. It would be him that loved Arthur most, despite everything he had to keep from him. Before, it was just another thing he’d had to keep from him. Merlin’s fingertips stayed closer to the head, dragging over the ridge repeatedly, sending himself silly and knocking his fantasy off kilter. It didn’t matter though, he was close enough any fantasy would do. Even one that didn’t even make sense to him. He saw Arthur on a real throne, in a real hall with a real sword and real knights. He saw him with real crown. He came with the words _long live the king_ echoing through his mind.

-x-

“So tell me why I’m here,” Morgana asked, sipping her coffee. “Not me, I know why _I’m_ here but why is Morgana playing peeping tom to your wedding night?”

Arthur stared down into his cup, reluctant to actually drink it. He was on edge enough and everyone asking questions didn’t help. How was he supposed to explain it all to them when he didn’t even really understand it himself?

“Guinevere and I,” he glanced at Gwen who was blowing on her hot chocolate, listening intently. “We don’t really know each other. She thinks I’m a dick because... well, I am a bit of a dick, aren’t I? But she’s your servant, you know her and she trusts you. I imagine if this wasn’t what it is; it would take years and a lot of difficult choices, a lot of proving I was worth marrying. But we don’t have that so I needed a catalyst. You’re the catalyst, Morgana.”

“And I use magic to convince her then?” Morgana asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, not as such. You’re not just a witch, Morgana, you’re a seer. Your dream, which I know you can’t see but if you could, you’d understand. It shows you a future in which Gwen is queen and Camelot has its golden age. We all want that to happen, it’s just... complicated,” Arthur finished vaguely. It was more complicated than that. In his heart he knew Morgana had wanted Camelot to have its golden age but she wanted to be at the helm, she wanted to rule. And Arthur knew destiny had rested on them all, unbearably heavy. He’d marry Gwen and his heart might have lain with her but his soul had been with Merlin. Since the moment they’d met. He couldn’t deny it any more than he could escape it and in the end, at whatever bitter end Arthur had reached trying to do what was _good_ and _honourable_ and _right_ , in the end it was Merlin. It always had to be. Arthur couldn’t play it any differently this time, not when it came to Merlin. But with hindsight on where everyone’s love landed; he could fix things before they got truly broken. He could share Gwen with Morgana, Lancelot too when the time came and Gwen could share him with Merlin, Morgana, his knights, everyone he had love for. That’s what being king meant, wasn’t it, loving everyone in the kingdom equally? Wouldn’t that have been so much simpler?

“So how are we playing it?” Gwen asked, breaking through Arthur’s downward spiral of depressing thoughts. Sometimes his feelings about Arthur’s tragic past felt more real to him than his own feelings in that moment.

“I thought it would be nice if Morgana got you ready, as you would usually do for her, and then she’d preside over the affair working magic to bind the kingdom to our love or something. Whatever would have been considered normal for a sorceress to do.”

“Is that the gentlemanly way of saying I’ll watch you fuck and tell you what to do?” Morgana asked shamelessly. “Because you can just say that, I’ve heard worse. I’ve said worse myself, trust me.”

“If that’s what you were doing, I’d say it,” Arthur assured her, his tone clipped because they just wouldn’t get it. Nobody could. “It’s more than that. It’s destiny.”

“It’s a porn film, Arthur, dear,” Morgana said but there was a falseness to her voice that betrayed a little insecurity. Maybe she felt it too. Merlin seemed to. But then... Merlin was special.

“You’re right,” Gwen said suddenly. “Not you love, sorry. Arthur’s right. You remember what I was saying earlier. It might only be a porn film but Arthur’s put so much more into it. It deserves the same consideration from us, don’t you think?”

Morgana shrugged, placated by Gwen’s words and a stroke of her arm. Arthur couldn’t help but beam though. Everything was falling into place.

-x-

When they returned to set, the furniture and bedding had been changed to better reflect Arthur’s character. At a glance it seemed like a totally different room but if closely inspected, it was easy to see past the little changes. It didn’t matter though, Arthur thought it was perfect.

His four poster bed had plush dark red bedding, fringed with gold, with scarlet curtains. He could easily imagine that scarlet red draped about his shoulders, the shoulders of all his knights. It was just right. He’d also been given a desk and a table, a different wardrobe, a chest of drawers and a manlier screen. It was like if Ikea did antique displays. 

Morgana was right behind him, her fingers brushing his arm as she breezed past. “Wasn’t this my room a moment ago?”

“Yeah,” Arthur said, reaching out to trail his hand down one of the posts. It wasn’t Morgana’s room anymore. It was his. “Come on then,” he said, bringing himself out of his thoughts.

Morgana drew up a chair to the side of the bed, a big clunky affair from his table, and tested it out. It worked well enough, she could be seen over the bed and she wasn’t blocking Arthur and Gwen’s shot, nor they hers. She still needed to change but she was more or less ready to go. Gwen needed to change as well; her purple under dress had been thrown on in their haste to get coffee and chat. The dresses would be brought to them though; they were far too far away from the dressing room to pop back for changes.

Sure enough, she spotted them hung up over Arthur’s screen. Not that modesty would be needed, they’d all be naked soon enough. “Let’s change,” Morgana suggested to Gwen, nodding to the dresses.

Gwen’s was a pure white nightgown with gold edging, fit for a queen. Her own dress was white as well but it shimmered with silver sequins. Very historically accurate, she thought to herself, bitter she wasn’t allowed a corset but she could have fucking sequins.

When they were both dressed and almost ready, hair and makeup came to make them look different. Gwen’s hair was unpinned and pulled back even more until only a few strands were free. The rest was loosely tied so it fell down her back. Morgana’s own hair was pulled down, the curls pinned in place earlier falling down in ringlets. While Gwen’s makeup was left natural, hers was made more dramatic, dark eyeliner and red lipstick. She didn’t doubt she looked every bit the femme fatale while Gwen still looked like Bambi. But Morgana knew she’d look like Bambi even as she was shown breaking Arthur’s heart. It was a shame really, if Morgana had learned anything about her it was that she had the potential to hold her own with the rest of them. But it didn’t really matter, Morgana decided, she suited Bambi well enough.

When they were ready, they rejoined Arthur. He’d had his one bit of armour removed and a different shirt, this one red, put on him but that was the only change. He was perched on the end of the bed and looking every bit the first time director. Morgana had seen her fair share. She wanted to say something reassuring but she only had one way of doing it. She took his face in her hands and placed a kiss to his lips. Completely innocent, entirely friendly. Sisterly even. “Don’t worry, dear brother, you’ll have your kingdom yet. Or your film, at the very least.”

Arthur gave her a strange look. Morgana straightened up. Perhaps it was just weird being kissed by someone he’d thought of as his sister. But then, that wasn’t as half as weird as it was bound to get. She shrugged it off anyway, a lot of people thought she was strange.

“I like that,” he said at last and something in Morgana warmed to him again. “Remember it.”

Their moment was broken as the scene was set; Morgana had taking her seat with Gwen standing behind her chair, her hand resting gently in Morgana’s. Arthur was waiting by the door. Morgana glanced at the new bedding, unable to forget than only an hour ago, she’d had Gwen on that bed and now Arthur was to have her. She was expected to give Gwen over, just like that. It was fine, Morgana told herself, that was the job but she couldn’t deny she’d grown attached to the girl with her big Bambi eyes.

The boards clacked and she was jolted out of her thoughts, her hand tightening around Gwen’s. 

“Arthur, I had a dream.” Arthur approached the bed and she found herself babbling her words, desperate to get them out before she couldn’t say them. She almost sounded fearful as she described her dream and Camelot and how Arthur must take Gwen as his wife. She wanted to kick herself because she didn’t sound like the all powerful sorceress she had built herself up as. She sounded like a young girl who’d had a nightmare.

Arthur watched her curiously and she found herself standing, even though the script didn’t call for it quite yet. She could see the hesitation she was feeling reflected back in his eyes. She reached for his arms, grasping them gently, trying to get him to smile. She tried to get herself to smile as well. “We have to do this.”

“For Camelot?” Arthur asked her and Morgana nodded, a slow smile coming finally.

“For Camelot,” she confirmed. She reached behind her for Gwen’s hand again, pulling her forward and standing her between herself and Arthur. She looked down, still not liking it, it was almost like she was offering Gwen up to be sacrificed. But Gwen turned back to her and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, like the one she’d given Arthur before filming. “You will have your love yet, my Lady, but how can you chase me if I cannot run?”

Morgana frowned, considering her words. Tomorrow she would have Gwen again. She would bring her back and fix them all. She could let go of her for today. She pulled her frown up by the edges, turning it into a hungry smile. Tomorrow would bring good things and this would bring tomorrow. 

She nodded and ran a hand over Gwen's shoulder, turning her back to face Arthur. She'd been told to get Gwen ready, like Gwen would get her ready for bed but she didn't know how to do that. She was already in her nightgown, she couldn't do anything.

Gwen reached out for Arthur's shirt, pulling it off easily and his eyes connected with Morgana's over Gwen's head as he brought his arms down again. Her words came back to her, her hands still longing to reach out for Gwen but not knowing how. "Don't worry, dear brother, you'll get your kingdom yet."

She reached down to grab a fistful of Gwen's nightgown and pulled it up, slowly revealing her calf then her thigh, her cunt and then it was up and off her. It was the only way she knew how to get a girl ready. She slipped her hand between Gwen's legs, feeling her hot and damp against her palm. Her fingers slipped inside her almost out of habit. _As will I, dear brother, as will I._

She waited as Arthur stripped, seeing him hard for them and feeling Gwen shudder under her fingers was enough to know she could get them all through this.

It was hard to force herself back into her seat and watch, saying things about bonds of love while Arthur led Gwen to bed. It was quickly becoming the hardest scene she'd ever had to shoot. Even the real hardcore stuff, that left bruises for weeks, was nothing to this. That she could distance herself from. This felt too real. It felt like she'd had to watch Gwen choose Arthur over her a hundred times before. It was clawing at her, the urge to steal Gwen away and refuse to give her back. It was madness, of course, she’d only just met the girl but something about her pulled at something inside Morgana, something that would fall into darkness if it didn’t get Gwen back. She couldn't shake the feeling that this, watching Arthur lie Gwen down on the bed, this was the first step on that spiralling staircase and she could only go down.

Morgana glanced over their bodies, knowing her skin must look deathly pale compared to Arthur's tanned body, her frame bony compared to Arthur's muscles. She wondered if her fingers, her mouth could ever make Gwen forget the first press of a cock against her or the way it slid in, Gwen's breath hitching as Arthur entered her. It was a natural reaction, no matter how many times it happened. She felt it herself every time.

She watched the muscles in Arthur back move, his hips rock, Gwen's hands grasping his sides. It was like a real wedding night, a real first time. She tried to console herself with the fact it wouldn't last, the legend dictated that she would run off with Lancelot and Arthur would seek comfort in her arms. Or perhaps she would seek comfort in his. Perhaps both. It didn't matter, that was how the legend went.

Morgana drew in a breath, the reason for her uneasiness about her feelings smacking her square in the chest. That wasn't how it was meant to go. In the legends she never fell for Guinevere. On paper it had seemed like Arthur had thrown it in, their scene, just to get a bit of girl on girl in there, to make it appeal to everyone but talking to him, talking to Gwen, all this fucking subtext she was meant to understand... none of it was part of the original story, not the story she'd grown up with. So why did she feel it so strongly, right in her gut? Why did she feel like she'd heard this story before?

But this bit, this bit was wrong. She would never have been ok with this. It would have broken her heart to see Gwen choose Arthur. It was breaking her heart to watch it now. She'd do anything to stop it, even if it meant listening to that possessive, obsessive voice inside herself. Even if it meant taking Gwen from him in any way she could. After all, if she couldn't have Gwen, why should he? He already had Camelot. He'd already had their father's love. It wasn't too much for her to have this one thing.

Morgana leaned forward, not thinking clearly about what she was going to do. Gwen's hand caught hers, stopping whatever action she'd been about to perform. Gwen held her hand tight and Morgana closed her eyes, Gwen was coming at Arthur's hand and she had no wish to see it. She wrenched her hand free and pushed the chair back. "Red. I can't do it. I'm sorry. I hope you can use what you got already but I just can't, I'm sorry."

Morgana took a few rushed paces and then ran from the room, her borrowed slippers clicking against the floor as she picked up pace. When she reached the door, she flung it open, not looking back.

She didn't stop until she found a deserted hall. It was massive with a high ceiling and a balcony. It took her breath away and she had to stop, out of sheer astonishment. It had fallen into complete ruin nearly but it was still a thing of beauty.

She walked over to one of the windows. They were on the second floor, she knew but every window she'd seen so far had faced outwards over the woods that surrounded them. But this window faced inwards, over the courtyard. She'd breezed through it on her way in but she'd not had the time to appreciate it. All she'd seen were white stones and blowing leaves. But now she could imagine people, going about their everyday lives, forming a crowd. She looked to the side, spotting a balcony that slotted perfectly into the corner. Did some great monarch stand there once upon a time, talking to his people, passing judgements, ordering executions?

A bell tolled suddenly and Morgana jumped, her hand reaching for the necklace that some member of the crew had draped over her neck. She glanced to the door, half expecting guards, half expecting some desperate soul to come fleeing from the cells. _The prisoner has escaped..._

The words weren't hers but they echoed through her head all the same, scaring her. She shook herself, between this and running from a shoot - what the hell was she doing? She'd never called time on a scene before. She had the right to, of course, everyone did if they were uncomfortable at any point, but she'd never had to do it before.

And she'd done it now, why? Because some serving girl had hurt her feelings? Because her so-called brother had got what should be hers? It was madness. Pure and utter madness. It was just a film, just a script they all had to follow. But then, they'd all left the script a while ago.

-x-

Arthur found himself back in a director’s chair, noticing how he seemed to flee to one every time things didn’t go quite to plan. It was like he was reminding himself he was really the one in control. But he wasn’t.

Morgana halting the scene had shaken him almost as much as it seemed to shake her. She’d not said what made her uncomfortable before she left but Arthur knew already, he could see it in the footage. She was getting sucked in too, the lines between herself and her character blurring. She looked like the Morgana of his dreams, the one from his nightmares. Not just some method dominatrix playing at villainy.

Part of him was relieved, it wasn’t just him. Whatever it was, Morgana felt it too. And Merlin... well, Merlin felt something he was sure of it. It sent a chill through him. His own thoughts had always worried him, the way he reacted to Arthur, but it was insane to think the others were afflicted in the same way. 

He shook his head. He was just tired. He sent a runner to go and tell Morgana she could go home for the day, extending the same offer to Gwen and collecting his things. In the cold light of morning, maybe it would all seem silly and they could move on.

-x-

Much to Morgana's relief, Arthur didn't ask her to do the scene again. A note came with a crew member saying _he'd had enough_ and Morgana couldn't help but wonder idly if he meant he had enough footage or if he was as tired as she was. She'd certainly had enough, she knew that for sure. It was only mid-afternoon but she felt like she'd been Morgana forever. The character weighed heavily on her shoulders and she wanted nothing more than to slip into a hot bath and be herself for a while.

It was all she could think about as she got in her car and drove home, kicked off her shoes and ran herself a bath. She stripped, not the sexy strip for show but a quick, practical one, and slipped into the hot water. It was like the breath of a dragon against her delicate skin but she found she didn't mind. She always liked the burn, this burn was no different.

She closed her eyes, head falling back against the china of her tub. It was starting to soothe her, the water gently lapping and the pleasant smell of perfume drifting up. The water became green wool on her skin and the china became stone floors. The quiet fear she’d felt before channelled through her now, focusing on her task. She had to rip these sheets. She had to help. She was the only one not struck down and that was what scared her, guilt was eating away at her as she ripped the cloth furiously. Why not her? Why had she been left alone in this emptiness? Was she the one truly cursed?

“Here, have some water,” a voice offered and she looked up, noticing she was not quite alone as she’d thought. She’d been absently staring at his back all along. She couldn’t shake the loneliness though. It was still wrong, her being fine. Especially as this man seemed to be suffering.

“I'm not thirsty,” she said, shaking her head fiercely. She didn’t deserve such aid, not when there were others to help. Morgana lowered her eyes back to her task. That was what was needed of her.

“If we get out of here, you may not get another chance to drink,” he said, offering her the skin again.

Morgana raised her eyes, a wave of doubt and fresh guilt coming over her. She swallowed down the bitter taste and met his eyes. “If we get out of here.”

Handed her the skin anyway but she didn’t accept it, putting it down beside her instead. She didn’t have time to stop. She wouldn’t take water from the others, not when they were sick and she was well. She watched him walk to doors that she instinctively knew had only death behind them. Her eyes widening, she returned to the sheets and he returned to her, picking up the skin like a gauntlet she’d laid down. Good, he needed it more than she did, she thought, watching as he drank from it.

“Here,” he offered again, as adamant that she should have some as she was that she should hold onto her thirst as penance for her health.

“I'm fine,” she refused, almost pleadingly.

“No, you have some before I finish it.” He held the bottle right out to her, a pleading look about him reflecting how she felt.

She stared up at him for a moment, taking him in. Was that how she looked? What had she done to incite such kindness if that was the heartbreak refusing it was causing? She sighed and took the skin, relenting to his wish. “Thank you.”

Morgana took a few sips, expecting the water to be cold and refreshing but it wasn’t, it was tepid and wrong. She set the bottle down and coughed, trying to shake the feeling. But the worried face from a moment ago was a solid back turned to her now. And the feeling couldn’t be shaken off. She gasped, trying to draw in a breath that wouldn’t come. She gasped harder, it still wouldn’t come.

Panic flared inside her, still tepid and wrong. He faced her now but it did nothing to soothe her. There was a hard, resolute look behind the tears in his eyes. She didn’t know what was worse, both scared her more than the fact she couldn’t breathe. She’d trusted him. In all this, she’d trusted him. She didn’t even know why.

He moved towards her, reaching out like he might help. She didn’t want his help, not if it was false, not if he wasn’t really going to help her. She fought him off, even as she felt the strength sap away from her body. Why should he be allowed to comfort her when he had inflicted this on her?

But she couldn’t fight him and fight for breath. She let herself be enclosed, his arms around her tight like the pressure in her through, his arms shaking like her body was shaking, his body warm and wrong like...

Spots of darkness appeared and she thought, abstractly, that it was him fading away not her. And true to her thought, light rushed back to her, drowning him out. Drowning...

Morgana sat up, water breaking over her head as she surfaced. She spluttered, coughing up what felt like half her bath. The water was tepid and wrong, tasting too chemical. Not poison, she realised, just bubble bath. She took several lungfuls of air, trying not to choke to death as her lungs fought to keep up with her hyperventilating before she could breathe normally again.

She sank back against the china, keeping a firm hold on the edges. “Holy fuck.”

-x-

The sky burned red, as though the rising sun was made of blood. The sound of swords clashing rang through the silence of the morning. Merlin could see it all, a thousand tiny battles. He needed to stop them all but there was one once seen he couldn’t let go of. He saw Arthur, full mail, older with greater bearing. He looked like a warrior, a king, not the petulant but endearing prat he’d come to know over the past... was it only a day? It felt like years. He felt like he’d known him forever.

A cry rang out in all the chaos, screaming his name in outrage, trying to incite him to act. But his heart was in his throat, way too invested in what Arthur seemed to be facing; a war. It was all their scenes all over again. He had been given a script, he knew what was coming but it was changing even as he thought it. A boy, younger than all of them, came up to stand against Arthur and Arthur’s handwriting flashed before him like it had been etched on the inside of his eyelids. One word - _react_. But Merlin couldn’t react, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t stop it. 

It was Arthur who reacted, bringing his sword up to counter the blow. But he hesitated, like Merlin was hesitating and even as Merlin convinced himself it was going to be ok, the boy’s sword was raised again, this time finding its mark and burying itself in Arthur’s side. Arthur’s look of complete and utter shock was what drove Merlin forward, screaming.

But the screaming wasn’t his voice, it was the screech of that God damn alarm clock and all he’d been battling through was his own sheets, so he could rise, sitting up in bed, breathing like he’d been running for his life, all his life.

He threw himself back down onto his pillows, closing his eyes again, the blood red sky just the sun beating against his eyelids, the alarm still screaming at him to take action.

-x-

Arthur arrived on set early. Yesterday had been surreal, out of control and he was determined that today would go exactly as planned. He would call the shots. He wouldn’t let his weird feelings get the better of him and he certainly wouldn’t let Merlin get the better of him.

He'd had a few minutes to get all his things together and get a coffee before he spotted Gwen. Arthur smiled sheepishly at her and she raised her own cup in response.

Yesterday had ended awkwardly, to say the least. They were both professional so they continued with the scene, even after Morgana left but Gwen's eyes had been on the door while Arthur's mind had been on everything else. That hadn't how it was supposed to go, he'd written things like that out. But even when he was at home, in bed, he dreamed that she'd come, in her shimmering dress and her red lipstick, and she'd taken his throne, his kingdom, by force.

He pushed all those thoughts down. It was just stress getting to him, he reasoned, and he couldn't take that out on his co-stars. He paused, considering his options. He should go and sit with Gwen, make small talk, but that seemed just as much of a minefield. It wasn't that he was straight for pay or anything, it was just... guys were easier. He understood men. Men generally understood him. Women seemed a world apart from anything he understood.

He found himself unburdened of the decision when another man walked through the door and introduced himself to Gwen. Arthur instantly recognised him as Lance. Or for the next few days, Lancelot. He'd worked with him several times before, either sharing sets or sharing partners but Arthur had never fucked him himself. Arthur smiled, taking a seat at his own table, relieved if his social obligation, and he got a curt nod in return. Arthur had known, ever since the first draft, that if he was going to be cuckholded by anyone, it was Lance. Even when playing his role, Arthur knew he'd get nothing but respect and professionalism from him.

Merlin came in next, nursing a coffee he'd apparently already bought and purposefully sitting across from Arthur. At least Arthur was sure it was purposeful. There were plenty of other tables he could have chosen. He could have sat with Gwen and Lance. But no, he sat himself down at Arthur's table and stared at him until he was forced to look up from his notes.

"I had a dream about you," he said finally, looking at him over the lid on his cup. "Isn't that odd?"

Arthur swallowed. He'd had a dream himself but he didn't dare tell anyone else about his dreams, he'd end up sectioned. So he shrugged instead, borrowing Arthur's mask of arrogance for a moment. "Glad I could make that much of an impression on you."

Merlin didn't take the bait though. "It wasn't that kind of dream, trust me."

Arthur shrugged again and looked down at his paperwork. He didn't have anything else he was prepared to say.

"Just thought it was strange," Merlin mused.

"Very strange," Arthur agreed for the sake of agreement.

-x-

Despite her near miss in the bath, Morgana had slept surprisingly well and was feeling better for it. She walked into the little area they'd turned into their coffee room and looked from one table to another, did she sit with Gwen and the new boy, Lancelot no doubt , or did she sit with Arthur and Merlin. Just as she was lingering to the point of obviousness, a blonde woman, the makeup lady from the day before, called her over. Morgana blinked for a moment, recognising her borrowed name after a moment.

She drew out a chair and hovered behind it a moment, just to be sure she was wanted.

"Morgause," the woman said holding out her hand and catching Morgana's hand in her own, overly familiarly. But then, they were quite familiar, what with the mid-scene makeup touch ups.

"Yes, I remember you from yesterday," Morgana confirmed. "I'm-"

"Morgana. Yes, I know. You couldn't possibly be anyone else." Morgause let go of her hand, fingertips stroking until her hand fell away. "You're well suited to your character."

"Thank you," Morgana said, feeling a blush creep to her cheeks though she couldn't possibly think why.

"So what's that about then?" Morgause asked, tipping her head towards when Gwen and Lancelot were sat, Lancelot saying something with an easy smile while Gwen laughed.

Morgana pulled a face before she even knew what she was doing. "That is Lancelot. He wasn't even here yesterday; he just waltzes in and takes over. Arthur deserves better really."

"Ouch!" Morgause winced. "Somebody got on your bad side."

"Not at all, I just think she's making it a bit easy, that's all." Morgana dragged her eyes away from them. She needed something to do. Someone to do. She had to take her attention off Gwen somehow, it was getting ludicrous. She turned her gaze back to Morgause. "Have you ever thought of getting into the industry? You're pretty enough for it, you could be my evil sister, my fellow priestess. I'd put in a word with Arthur if you like?"

Morgana cringed at the mistake. It was sorceress not priestess. Shit.

She glanced away and found herself looking over at Arthur. He, at least, would share her discomfort at Gwen's behaviour, surely. She was his wife, after all. But Arthur was too busy talking to Merlin.

"She is an actress, you know," Morgause reminded her and Morgana nodded slowly.

"Of course, we all are," Morgana said, partly to reassure herself that it was true. This was all a story, none of it was real. "She needn't lay it on so thick though."

"You were laying it on just as thick with her yesterday," Morgause pointed out and in outrage, Morgana's head whipped around to glare at her.

"I was not," she protested. "I was merely being friendly."

"Then perhaps she is merely being friendly?"

Morgana scoffed at the idea. There was being friendly and there was being _friendly_.

"Come on, sister, let's go get you ready before you claw his eyes out," Morgause said, standing. Sister made Morgana pause for a moment a strange sense of déjà vu about her but she shrugged it off. It was a perfectly normal term, especially in a male driven industry.

-x-

"It's the Gwen and Lancelot scene this morning right?" Merlin asked, setting down his empty coffee cup. "That must be daunting."

Arthur considered it. It was an emotional scene, filled with betrayal at the idea his wife, a woman he's only met yesterday and his most loyal knight, who wasn't even in costume yet bore the nobility of one still, would go behind his back, even though he'd wrote the whole thing. It would certainly demand he found the emotions from somewhere so he nodded.

"For once you won't be centre of attention, must be devastating for you," Merlin continued, smirking over at Arthur who hadn't quite stopped nodding in time to disagree. His next reflex was to hit him instead, so he gave him a playful punch on the arm, like he would if any of his other friends were taking the piss.

"Ow! Careful, I'm going to get enough bruises from your sister later, I don't need you tenderising me for her." Merlin rubbed his arm for good measure, just to make Arthur feel worse.

But Arthur had forgotten the hit, he'd sobered at the thought of Morgana manhandling Merlin. It would all be under RACK conditions, of course, he'd made sure of that but he couldn't shake the thought of Merlin at her mercy for real and it clawed a pit in his stomach. He'd tear the kingdom apart to find him.

"Don't look so serious," Merlin said, shaking Arthur out of his thoughts. He was right there; he didn't need to look for him. "I like it really. I wouldn't tuck tail and put up with all your demands if I didn't."

Arthur looked at him for a moment, trying to work out what he'd said. Did he mean he took the job so that he could be in a hardcore scene with Morgana, notorious for her ability to dominate anyone, even the most pushy of subs, which was Merlin all over. Or did he mean that despite all his remarks, he actually enjoyed being bossed about by Arthur?

"Come on," he said with a sigh. "You need to go and get changed, I don't like you in this get up."

"What's wrong with this?" Merlin looked down at his jeans and shirt while Arthur looked away, embarrassed that he'd nearly admitted he missed Merlin in costume, his Merlin, how he'd always imagined him.

"Nothing, it's just... we need to get on, we've got a tight schedule today." Arthur stood, committed to his pretence now.

-x-

As he got changed, a full shirt of mail as he wouldn't be taking it off for a while, he battled awkwardly making small talk with Lancelot or Merlin. Both were chatting away, getting on like a house on fire and even though Arthur had hired him for his personality, he couldn't help bitterly wondering if there was anyone that didn't like him.

Out on the set, Gwen joined them in a dress made of red silk, denoting her change in status, and Merlin left for his own scene, Arthur watching his retreating back despite himself. Finally, Arthur pulled himself together and made sure everyone knew what they were doing. They did. In fact, they'd seemingly talked about it at length without him. Which was fine, Arthur supposed, at least they knew what they wanted to do with the scene.

Arthur had chosen a large room with stone pillars and high windows for their scene. It wasn't the astounding room that they'd found Morgana in the day before on the floor above but it served as a modest throne room. He even had a modest wooden throne. There wasn't much else to speak of though, no bed, no tables. Only the throne and that was too personal. No matter how Lancelot betrayed him, he would never sit upon his throne.

But between them, they decided that one of the pillars was strong enough to bear weight and the matter was settled, Gwen would be held up, pressed against it. It would make shooting more difficult and editing a bitch but Arthur couldn't see any other way. And the last thing he wanted was to abandon the room in favour something easier. Affairs weren't supposed to be easy.

For the first hour or so, Arthur took up his place in the director’s chair. He watched as photos were taken and lighting was checked. Then they were ready. For the first time since he'd started this project, he got to call action. It wasn't like he thought it would be.

The script called for accidental voyeurism but not for a while, making Arthur feel like a voyeur of a whole different breed. He watched with a clinical eye as Lancelot unbuttoned Gwen's dress, revealing her white bodice inch by inch. Gwen had tried to pitch for full out nudity, claiming Morgana would throw a fit if she'd been allowed a corset while Morgana had been denied one. But Arthur argued on behalf of the bodice, claiming it wasn't really a corset and someone wanting to be secret wouldn't risk running about the castle naked. Gwen had conceded to the bodice after that, perhaps out of worry that Arthur really would chase her around the grounds wearing nothing at all.

So each button was undone and the dress fell to the floor, leaving the bodice and a few token layers of petticoats. After a moment of kissing, Lancelot walked her backwards into the pillar, her hands clutching at his black shirt, so like the one Merlin wore, only darker. She pulled it free, lifting it over his head and discarding it on the floor.

The shirt had hidden muscle, broad shoulders and a strong back. All the things that made him believable as a knight. That strong back lifted Gwen suddenly, making her gasp and giggle. His hands drew up her skirts, bunching them around her hips, giving the camera the quickest glimpse of her cunt before she wrapped her legs around Lancelot's waist, balancing her weight evenly against the stone so he'd be able to hold her for longer. Gwen's hands went to her bodice, pulling open the laces until her tits could spill out, the compromise for Arthur vetoing full nudity.

Since it was porn, Arthur had decided to let them go all the way, climax and all before he found them. He wasn't so much catching them in the act as catching the curtain call but Lord knows how many complaints of blue balls he'd get if he did it any other way. Knowing he had a while yet, he let his thoughts drift to Merlin and what he'd be doing with Morgana.

-x-

Merlin tested his bonds. They were real enough. Made from real rope and really tied. That’s how he liked them. He couldn’t stand directors that wanted to play it safe and fake the knots. It wasn’t like he wasn’t tall enough to hold onto the wooden beam if his wrists started to strain.

Morgana was in her chair by the fire, where it had doubled up as a makeup chair. She’d already filmed a few plot based scenes, a rarity in porn, just to explain her sudden change of heart. Though it wasn’t a change of heart as such, it was obvious, even though none of them were proper actors, that Morgana’s heart had been with Gwen since the beginning. This, with him, was a means to an end. He suspected that had they been doing this for real, in some other context but porn and some other time but now, she would have sooner tortured him the old fashioned way. But nobody wanted to see that. Not when there was enough of that on TV anyway. Merlin smiled to himself, anyone would think there was enough sex on there too but he’d be out of a job if there was ever enough sex to be had.

Morgana was released from her chair, dramatic black eyeliner matching her lace black dress. She wouldn’t be out of that, not this scene, not as she was the mistress. Perhaps in her scene with Gwen, maybe, but not with him. No, the instant a woman took off her clothes in a boy/girl scene, she’d become nothing more than a naked woman, no matter the dynamics. Merlin didn’t mind though, in fact, it would be easier to pretend to be intimidated by her if he didn’t have to keep his eyes staring straight ahead.

Though he was loathe to admit it, he didn’t think he’d have to play too hard at being wary of her. Even though he couldn’t be sure it was her voice, he’d never heard her speak, he was certain that in all his dreaming, she’d been screaming, in rage, in total and utter desperation, his name. And not Merlin, his name given for this production. His real name, the one he told nobody. Screamed over the clang of swords, sharper than the sound of any metal clashing. It sent shivers through him to think about it so he pushed it down. It wouldn’t do to look like he was scared now. It wouldn’t do to have anyone think he didn’t want to do the scene. Because as mad as it seemed, he was looking forward to it, in a typical masochistic fashion. It would be cathartic, he knew from experience, to scratch at that itch and see what pain could be yielded from it. At the very least, it would stop him thinking about how his dream had ended.

-x-

After an hour or so shot close up, they moved to a far away angle that was supposed to be from Arthur's viewpoint and therefore needed the back of his head. Luckily for him, the best view was from behind another pillar and by keeping his head straight, he managed to spend most of his time leaning against it.

He couldn't help his thoughts drifting again, boy/girl porn just wasn't his thing unless he was a part of it. Even though arguably, he was a part of this one, he didn't have enough to distract his thoughts away from more interesting things. A part of him wondered if as king, would he have been able to get away with an affair like this? True, kings were notorious for keeping mistresses but the only person he could imagine risking his marriage for wasn't exactly someone he could take on as a mistress.

Would that have stopped him, if he had been the real Arthur? Would that have been a time where a scandal would have been caused? Had it been a punishable offence? Would he have had the power to change that? Even as king would he have had to run around like this, in secret, should he wish to act on his desires?

-x-

Morgana looked Merlin up and down as he hung lifelessly by his wrists. He was supposed to be asleep or unconscious or powerless in some way. She could see it. Like this, it was easy to believe he was harmless. She could have easily have walked by him in the street and not know she’d been in the presence of the greatest sorcerer in the world. Heck, she was certain she could know every inch of him and still not see how he could be so devastatingly powerful. Even without his magic, even just as a friend of the king, he was in the perfect place to steer the destiny of the kingdom. It wasn’t hard to think him just a boy because if he could have done it, why hadn’t he? Why hadn’t he fixed everything? Why hadn’t he averted the terrible things that he’d been witness to? The things she’d done herself...

Morgana shook her head. She was going mad, she was sure of it. She’d over extended herself, booking this shoot. Three days back to back. It was getting to her already and she’d only filmed a few scenes. She needed a bit of normalcy. She needed to get back into a headspace she felt comfortable in. If she couldn’t do that now, with full permission to dominate this fragile looking creature, when could she? She needed to get back inside her own head and out of Morgana’s.

She picked up the bucket of water on the table. He knew it was coming, sadly, but he still gasped and startled beautifully when she threw it over him. If he’d looked small and delicate when dry, he looked like a drowned kitten when soaking wet. It wasn’t without its charm though. The way his shirt stuck to his chest, matched with the way his arms were drawn up, it was quite something. Not to mention the way water dripped so slowly from his skin, like it didn’t quite want to leave him. 

Her lecherous view made it easy to draw a smirk from deep down where her dark, dirty thoughts lived. “Good morning.”

-x-

There was a quick run through of the footage so far, to make sure they'd got everything and then the moment was upon him. Arthur tried to gather all his emotions up, borrowing all the confused, hurt feelings that he had on behalf of the real Arthur. But it wasn't confusion and hurt over Guinevere and Lancelot that echoed down through the years. It was Merlin and his secrets, all the lies.

It was wrong, he knew, it was supposed to be his wife and his best friend that inspired such a feeling of betrayal, not his servant. But the dice had been thrown in his mind and that was how they landed. That was the emotion that he bore down on and used for the scene. He wasn't called upon to do much, fight Lancelot and shout a bit but he got through it, just about. The burning feeling of jealousy and possessiveness he knew came from the fact that somewhere in the castle, Morgana was probably fucking Merlin.

-x-

“You know, there's one thing I don't understand, Merlin,” Morgana mused, speaking her mind out loud. She’d run out of decent banter to use and yet, she couldn’t jump straight to the porn yet. She needed to know why he was refusing her. She needed to know why Arthur and not her. Why did everyone choose Arthur? 

Not to mention, she still hadn’t got him out of his clothes and that was kind of vital. She ran a dagger under his chin before bringing it down his collarbone, the open neck of his shirt. She made the first cut, not on skin but on cloth. It was a real blade though and Merlin’s breath hitched. Her own did too. It would be so easy to nick skin but she didn’t. But because she had the knife, he wouldn’t answer her, not until she forced him to. 

“You're Arthur's servant, nothing more. Yet, time and again, you've proved yourself willing to lay down your life for him,” she pressed on, cutting down to the hem of the shirt and pulling it open, exposing still damp skin. She laid her hand to his chest, wanting to know if he was cold. An odd compulsion but she couldn’t help herself. He was cold and she stroked his skin, trying to warm him. She’d known cold, it wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

“What are you doing?” Merlin asked her, drawing her eyes up. There were no rules for this scene. Safewords had been put in place, of course, but he’d not wanted to know what she had in mind. He wanted to feel it properly, everyone wanted it to be _real_. But the last thing he expected, or wanted, was comfort. A gentle hand.

“Have you never taken your liege out of wet clothes before?” she asked, her gentle look turning hard.

His voice turned hard to match her. “All right, I know what you're doing. What I don't know is why.”

Something leaped inside her, her hand reaching out and catching his face in one hand, squeezing it painfully hard. He wasn’t meant to talk back. He wasn’t meant to question her. She was meant to be questioning him. She was meant to have the power and somehow, he still made her feel like all control had been taken away from her. 

“I believe I asked you a question first. Why are you so loyal to Arthur?” She pulled him in closer, like she could smell Arthur on him and somehow get her answer that way. It was easy to know why when she’d seen them fucking from her window but she couldn’t understand it. Why were they together like that? Why had Arthur written them their happy ending but given her this role to play, alone? Why couldn’t Guinevere run away with her if she was so willing to run away with Lancelot? Why was she the one who had to hunt her down, using these methods, to convince her to choose Arthur?

“I don't expect you to understand, Morgana.” Her name broke through her thoughts and she returned her gaze to him, filling it with misplaced contempt and getting back worse in return. “You have no sense of duty, no sense of loyalty.”

“You're wrong,” Morgana said, stepping back and surprising herself with the weight in which she felt his blow. “Don't think I don't understand loyalty just because I've got no one left to be loyal to.”

There was a flash of his face, not the one he wore now, a mask of confidence and annoyance, not snarky and bitchy and altogether too mouthy for her liking. No, the face full of tears and regret. She felt something tighten in her throat, like she was suffocating and she pushed him away, as far as she could reach.

“Red,” she said weakly. “I need a moment. Cut those last lines, they weren’t right.”

She turned and sat herself down by the fire, crashing a little.

“I thought they were fine,” Merlin said, his voice sounding far away, softer, a world away from the one who had taunted her with truths too close to home. Not her truths though. They were wrong. That wasn’t what they were meant to be talking about.

“No, I’ve got Arthur’s loyalty still, Gwen’s too, deep down. Somehow, tomorrow, I’ll have yours too but it’s... it’s too easy.” Morgana put her chin in her hands, trying to make her thoughts seem more casual than they were. “It shouldn’t be this simple. Love doesn’t conquer all. Love cannot fix this. And if it does, it isn’t love for me. You’d all turn your back on me, you’d kill me.”

She looked up and met Merlin’s eyes dead on. He would have killed her and she didn’t know why. He seemed so harmless, so nice now. But that was almost worse. His kindness was putting the fear of God in her and she couldn’t stand it.

“He’s doing it for the love of _you_ , you know that right?” Morgana asked, pushing the point of the blade into the table and turning it. “He wants to fix all the mistakes we made, our Merlin and Morgana. The stories might be about Arthur and Guinevere, even Lancelot but we’re the ones that know better. We’re the ones who sat back and let it happen, knowing it would.”

“How do we know better?” Merlin cocked his head to the side and Morgana smiled, she’d known what he was going to say before he said it. She pushed the chair back with a sigh, ready to pretend nothing had been said. Then he surprised her. “How do we fight destiny?”

“We don’t. It’s our destiny to always be like this. It’s our doom.” She met his eyes, searching them and finding the same confused look that she was sure graced her own face. She blinked it away, bringing the knife up until he was forced to do the same. “Come on, let’s do this before we get fired for being such miserable fuckers.”

-x-

After the scene was done and dusted, Arthur sat himself down in the chair and talked himself down from his scripted but all too real outburst. So much for worrying about where he'd draw inspiration from. Arthur sighed and closed his eyes, his head resting against the uncomfortable chair back. He'd never wanted to have the legend play out exactly but this was getting way off base now. He'd wanted to fix all the problems with betrayal and jealousy, not create new ones from nowhere. He was supposed to have his heart broken by Gwen, seek solace with Morgana and platonically (or not platonically at all in his dreams and in his story) love Merlin, as his best friend, and trust him with his life. Somewhere along the line, he'd gotten it arse about face and ended up feeling nothing romantic for his wife, irrationally fearing Morgana and having the most inconveniently timed possessive feelings for Merlin.

It was his own fault. Nowhere in the legend did it suggest that Arthur and Merlin had been more than a king and his advisor. But then Merlin had also been three times his age in the legend and quite possibly a crackpot. He belatedly realised that perhaps he should have left him that way. But that wasn't _his_ Merlin. And he couldn't have written Arthur's story, as he understood it, without him. No matter which way he looked at it, he couldn't win.

“Are you alright?” Gwen asked softly, making Arthur jump. He hadn’t even noticed her approaching. 

“Yes. No, I’m fine,” Arthur mumbled, shaking his head, trying to clear it. “That was just...”

“Intense?” Gwen filled in helpfully, laying a kind hand on his arm. It was comforting but not quite in the way it should be. “It was rather, wasn’t it? You should consider going mainstream, it was good.”

“Nah,” he said with a shrug. “It’s only _him_ I can play. Usually I can’t even fake an orgasm well.”

“So I noticed,” Gwen said but her voice wasn’t harsh or taunting, it was just acknowledging a truth. “Don’t worry, love, I...”

“Feel it too?” Arthur said, this time the burden of finishing the sentence falling to him. And it wasn’t an easy admittance, even if it was purely professional. “This lack of feeling.”

“It happens sometimes,” Gwen reassured him. “But we soldier on, that’s the important thing.”

“But you’re...” Arthur trailed off. She was right, not just right about them but she was right. She _was_ Guinevere, she was perfect. She just didn’t stir the right feelings in him. He admired her greatly and there was something, some greater sense of trust and duty. A love, sure, but it wasn’t the type of love that he could use. All he knew was everything would be safe in her hands, his film, his characters, himself, his kingdom. “You’re right, of course.”

-x-

Morgana trailed her hand over where the knife had pressed, cutting away at Merlin’s shirt, only a few moments ago. Editing could make it seem like their heart to heart had never happened. She could pretend the same.

“If you’re so loyal to Arthur, why won’t you help me?” she asked, dragging her knife lower, low enough to make any man wince. “I’m only doing this to help him.”

“You’re going about this the wrong way, Morgana,” Merlin said, his breath catching in his throat even though he knew Morgana wouldn’t really cut him. The blade was real enough though and he could feel he was pushing his luck. But he liked pushing things, liked the reaction it got. “You can’t force someone to love or not to love.”

Morgana chuckled but it had a bitterness to it. “Are we still talking about Guinevere and Lancelot?”

Merlin held her gaze, the implication not lost on him. Both of them knew Arthur and Gwen were best off with each other. That was what the script called for. That was what history called for. But it didn’t seem to be going that way this time. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Arthur, and to all of them, than this whole scripted affair.

“Who else would I be talking about?” Merlin asked, playing dumb. He didn’t know exactly what to make of these weird feelings, or the weird moment they’d had when the cameras had stopped rolling, but he wasn’t keen to share them now that it was on the record again.

“My dear brother, perhaps,” Morgana whispered, her eyes darting back up to his then dropping again. “Dear Arthur.”

Merlin deigned not to answer her. He’d already decided he wasn’t going to confirm it and denying it, that would be just as telling. He kept his mouth closed and struggled against the rope instead, as if putting a point on why they were really there.

“After all, he is _meant_ to love our dear Guinevere. But alas, he does not. And no doubt when I offer him myself, he will not love me.” She looked at him, eyes piercing. “Why is it only you?”

Merlin tried to shrug, his arms being drawn above his head not really helping. “You’re asking the wrong person.”

“No, I’m not, I’m asking you.” Morgana slid the blade up, under the fastenings on his trousers, effectively rendering them unable to fasten anything. “If you help me, Gwen goes back to Arthur and everybody is happy.”

“I don’t understand,” Merlin said, half his attention on her dagger and the other half on willing himself hard, belatedly remembering he’d be expected to perform in all this. He barely took in her words but he knew they were nonsense. “How is that a good thing?”

“It’s a good thing because if everyone is happy, nobody is asking questions.” She slipped her hand past the knife, nudging the trousers completely down and wrapping her hand around his cock almost distractedly. “If nobody asks questions, it doesn’t matter what the answers are. Who is Arthur really fucking, his queen or his servant? Who is the queen fucking if not her husband? What does it matter? Without Guinevere, it all falls apart. We need her.”

“You need her more than most,” Merlin reminded her, determined that if his secrets were to be spilled, hers would be too.

“Would I be here, with you, otherwise?” Morgana tightened her grip threateningly.

“That isn’t how this ends, you know that.”

“It doesn’t matter how it ends,” Morgana smiled to herself. “It doesn’t matter what is remembered and what is forgotten. To be remembered, you must first be dead. Will you care what is remembered when you are gone? Or will you remember what you have lived?”

“Arthur cares,” Merlin mused. “Arthur chooses every word he wants us to say, even if we don’t say them. He cares.”

“Maybe Arthur doesn’t know what’s good for him.” Morgana dropped the knife and it clattered to the floor, her hand coming up to his neck instead. “That’s why we’ll always end up back here. We’re always worrying about the future.”

“And I should side with you instead?”

“You should side with yourself, with him, with all of us. Arthur’s bane is Arthur himself, as you are your own bane and I am mine. We need each other.”

Merlin closed his eyes, the fire blazed battlefield coming back to him. Morgana’s hand was persistent, breaking through. It wasn’t reality, it was a dream, he told himself. Even his dream was a dream. He saw himself sat by a hundred fires, counselling Arthur when he needed to be saved from himself. He saw the grateful look, the loving look, even if Arthur could say neither set of words. 

Even as he opened his eyes, he could still see Arthur, shining golden. His wrists broke free from the rope even though he’d stopped fighting against it. All he knew was Arthur and to get to Arthur, they needed Gwen and to get to Gwen, he needed to give into Morgana. Part of him knew, deep down that they were Morgana’s thoughts planted inside him, or something planted inside him. Whatever it was, it was completely foreign and it took Morgana by surprise just as it did him as he collided with her, lifting her and twisting so she was in his place, holding onto the wooden beam and the tatters of rope.

He hiked her skirts up, long, black with shredded lace. Aesthetically, he should have taken her dress off but he couldn’t think straight with her digging into every inch of him she could cling to. Inside her, all he could remember was he was saving Gwen, he was saving Arthur and even though she’d never admit she needed it, he was saving her too, from a path she was put on, from a path he put her on.

She let go of the beam, putting everything on him. Her hand came up to the back of his neck, nails clawing and the pain seemed more than it should be. He could almost feel the ropes again, the fire burning, her dagger pressed into his skin with real threat. He could feel her consume him, take away everything else until there was only one thought... but he lost the thought, it fled from him without the pain to feed it and all that was left was her. And it was her mouth consuming him, her body pulling him in, her cunt clutching onto him as she came, refusing to let him go until she’d drawn the same little death from him. A shadow passed over his mind and he could see it reflected back in her eyes, that’s all he’d ever given her, little deaths.

-x-

Arthur’s scene was finished ages before Merlin’s and he found himself nursing his coffee, not wanting to drink it until he could check in with him. It was madness, sheer and utter madness, but he couldn’t shake the feeling from earlier, the feeling that he’d lost him somehow. He rationalised that feeling, as best he could, as jealousy over Merlin’s scene with Morgana. How he would rationalise his jealousy was another matter he didn’t even want to start thinking about.

When Merlin finally did come through the door, it was with Morgana five steps ahead of him. Arthur stood to try and get his attention but Morgana waved him back down again, taking the place he’d reserved for Merlin.

“Leave him for a little bit, yeah? The scene didn’t go exactly as scripted and I think he needs a moment,” Morgana informed him.

“Does he need talking down?” Arthur asked, knowing it was easy to forget the reality of porn shoots sometimes. Just because when the cameras were on it was all staged, it didn’t mean people didn’t crash when the cameras were off.

“I tried, he claims he’s fine,” Morgana assured him before glancing at his full coffee. “Drink up, dear brother, we have a scene to shoot in an hour and you’ll need to be out of that armour.”

Arthur looked down, he’d almost forgotten he was wearing it. It was heavy and should have felt unnatural but after a while, it felt like a second skin to him. What didn’t sit right, however, was Merlin, and Morgana’s dismissal of him. He looked around but couldn’t find Merlin among all the crew breaking for lunch. A tiny part of him wondered if he should chase after him, try and find him, but he knew Merlin only had the one shoot today, he’d probably be halfway home by the time Arthur was done haring about the castle after him.

He sighed and gulped his coffee down to the sound of Morgana’s soothing voice. “There’s a good boy.”

An hour later found Arthur out of his amour and sat at his desk, glaring down at a map. He was supposed to be worried about Gwen. Instead he was worried about Merlin. Either way, his attention wasn’t on what it should have been and so when Morgana sidled up to him, out of the darkness, he startled for real.

“Morgana,” he said, noting her presence coolly even though he was sure his voice should have trembled.

There was more script, talk of battles and of what they would do but it all got lost in Morgana’s pitying eyes. She reached for his hand and he pushed his chair back so she could stand comfortably at his side. But she smiled sadly instead, like she knew he was thinking about someone else and he knew she was too. Of them both, she was the one thinking of Guinevere as she pulled at the sashes on her dress, helping it fall to the ground, the script forgotten because the words weren’t what mattered.

“Don’t worry, dear brother,” Morgana said as she straddled his lap, the gentleness of her voice taking him by surprise. “We’ll have your queen and your love back yet.”

Arthur mused on her turn of phrase as she reached down to take his cock in her hand, positioning it underneath her. His queen was her love and his love was not his queen. Neither of them loved the other but it was easy, for a second, to pretend they did rather than admit the truth. That’s why he’d written it like this after all. The incest meant nothing to him. Hell, even the sex meant nothing. But the moment of solace, when Arthur was left with nobody but her and she was left with nobody but him, that was what mattered.

-x-

Merlin had found himself a little corner under a winding staircase to sit in. The light filtered down from the high windows but the stone steps shaded him from the worst of it.

It wasn’t fucking Morgana that bothered him. Sure, it hadn’t been planned and it was not exactly professional but in context of their scene, she didn’t take back the reins, she didn’t call time on it. She fucked him right back, like her life depended on it. That’s what had him bothered. This overwhelming sense that her life did depend on it, that he was somehow responsible for her. He’d only met her this morning. But she had a way of looking at him, wariness mixed with outright fear badly veiled behind confidence. 

Worse than that, he felt torn, between feeling something, some pity for her, and Arthur, his loyalty to him. He should have run it past Arthur first, made sure Arthur was alright with it. He should have stuck to what Arthur wanted of them all. His story was written. He shouldn’t be messing about with it.

Yesterday, with just Arthur, had been so much easier. He needed that again. Something he understood, something he could know if he was doing it right or wrong. He needed Arthur there, to direct him if nothing else.

As if by some magic, Arthur seemed to know Merlin’s thoughts, like he’d been summoned by them. Either way, Merlin found himself looking up at him, blinking through the bright light that beat down on him and Arthur both.

“Thank God you’re still here,” Arthur said, stepping towards him until Merlin was staring directly down at his boots.

“I’m sorry; I fucked it up, didn’t I? Do we have to reshoot?” Merlin asked. It had been a few hours since he’d walked off set with Morgana, she’d be in another shoot now, with Gwen. If he’d messed up, he’d set them back the rest of the day.

“What? No. I don’t know. I haven’t even watched it,” Arthur said, shaking his head and getting on the floor beside Merlin. “I was... worried? I don’t know.”

Merlin smiled to himself, a disbelieving chuckle rising in his throat that he barely caught in time. “You were worried about me?”

“Yes,” Arthur said, affecting the same downward gaze that Merlin had perfected since he’d sat down next to him. “Morgana said the scene went a bit awry and I was worried she’d not... looked after you properly. I don’t know, I don’t do D/S but I do know you looked like hell and you still do.”

Merlin couldn’t help but laugh at that, even if he didn’t really feel the humour. “You couldn’t look after a puppy, how are you going to go about performing aftercare when you don’t even know what it means?”

“I’ve got a Golden Retriever at home actually, so shows what you know,” Arthur corrected him but he shifted closer, just enough for it to be an invitation. “What do you need?”

“I don’t _need_ anything,” Merlin decided, the real answer, the one he’d thought a moment ago being way to insane to admit to. He didn’t _need_ Arthur. He barely knew the bloke. What he needed was a hot shower, a warm bed and a cup of valerian tea.

“I doubt that,” Arthur told him. “Everybody needs something. What you mean is you don’t want anything from me because you’re in a strop and don’t want to admit I can help.”

“I don’t want to admit what I want because it’s stupid, alright?” Merlin rolled his eyes, drawing one knee up, the one closest to Arthur, so he could rest his cheek against it. It was just as stupid because he’d only done it to be a fraction closer to Arthur without looking like that was what he was doing.

“I can do stupid,” Arthur shrugged. “As you so kindly pointed out, I probably won’t have a clue anyway so you may as well say it.”

Merlin looked at him sideways, not raising his head because oddly, he could see him better at a funny angle. “This isn’t subdrop. Not that you’d know the difference. I just... your story, it’s too much. I don’t do plots. I don’t do _love will conquer all_ because it doesn’t, not in real life so lord knows why you’d want to attempt it in a porn film, of all things. In our world, we’re supposed to turn up, drop our pants, fuck, come and go home. Half the time the plot is added afterwards using clever editing and a leading title. I’ve never had to be someone more than a job description. You’re fucking with a tried and tested model, Pendragon, and I don’t understand why.”

Arthur looked away, he knew what Merlin wanted but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it yesterday and he wasn’t any better equipped to do it now. He couldn’t explain why. “You still haven’t told me what you need.”

“I need you to make me understand,” Merlin said, his knee swaying the slightest bit until his head, seemingly accidentally, brushed Arthur’s chest. When he received no complaints, he let it rest there. “Why do you care so much? Why do _I_ care so much? I’m having a crisis here, prat, and I’m fairly certain it’s your fault somehow.”

“It’s not my fault, trust me,” Arthur admitted, even if he couldn’t know for certain that he wasn’t at least a little bit to blame for putting other people through his compulsion to bring Arthur to life. “I wish I didn’t care so much, but there you go.”

-x-

Morgana pulled herself up by her laces, her icy front coming in handy for once. When Gwen approached her, she was all smiles and small talk. And Morgana smiled too, this is where she's get Gwen back, teaching her once and for all who she belonged to, who had her first. The lesson may well last into tomorrow, if she administered it right.

Like yesterday, and with every girly shoot, first came the photos. She was looking forward to seeing Gaius again, he didn't judge her methods or her predilections. But this time she didn't get Gaius. This time she got one of Uther's pals. She could sniff out his ilk, she always could. He arrived in a pressed business suit, black pinstriped to be exact, and his camera was one of those compact digital ones that did all the real work for him. He wasn't in it for the photography; he wasn't in it for the art. He was in it to watch girls getting their tits out. Morgana couldn't help but sneer at the very sight of him. He held out his hand nonetheless and she shook it because she, at least, was a professional.

"Agravaine," he introduced himself as and Morgana said her given name for the shoot back. He needn't think he was getting a card with her chosen name on. Not even if she carried cards or had anywhere to put them. No, this one, when compared to Gaius, made her skin crawl. 

Surprising herself, she found a new solidarity with Gwen. She'd be getting her tits ogled at well, the least Morgana could do was stick with her.

"This is my Guinevere - I mean, my sub, Guinivere. She was a bad girl who ran off with her lover boy. I'm going to teach her the error of her ways," Morgana explained, even though it wasn't strictly necessary. "As her dom, I ask that you do not address her, she'll be gagged after all so she can't reply. You can run all requests by me."

Morgana smiled, all teeth and veiled threats and not surprisingly, Agravaine nodded slowly. If she could have him whipped with a few words, imagine what she could do with Gwen. Imagine what she could do with Gwen and an actual whip.

She led Gwen over to the table that had been set out especially for her. There weren't many toys, a basic looking paddle, wrist and ankle restraints that looked like they'd come straight out of London Dungeons, a collar and leash both in black leather, soft and supple, and finally a black silk gag. Morgana would have sooner panty stuffed her but in keeping with the era and the ridiculous need for accuracy, she'd chosen to forgo underwear again. So she took the gag, tipping Gwen's head back by her chin so that she could make her jaw really drop before she placed the silk between her lips and over her tongue. Tied firmly at the back, she knew that would be the end of Gwen's flirting. Next she took the collar and leash and after clipping it in place, she gave Gwen the leash to hold, for symbolic purposes if for no other reason. The collar she applied herself, buckling it tightly three times, even though the other two buckles were supposed to be for show. Morgana did nothing by halves.

Morgana nodded, satisfied by Gwen's submission and slightly wet already under her black lace dress because she had her now. She turned her to face Agravaine and gave her a playful slap on the arse, prompting her forward. Apart from the collar and the gag, Gwen wore nothing but a blush and Morgana openly enjoyed the view.

"Where would you like her?" Morgana asked, taking control of the situation.

-x-

After a moment of silence, Arthur closed his eyes. “I dream it. All of it, this film, every legend, every which way his story could have gone. I had to get it out of my head somehow.”

“Yeah, well, now you’ve put it in mine. Thanks for that,” Merlin rolled his shoulders, trying to get some of the weight off them and to his surprise; Arthur’s hand came up to still them.

“Tell me about it, please,” Arthur asked. “I’ve never been able to explain it so it’d be...”

“Cathartic?” Merlin finished for him, suppressing a shiver. He wondered if it would be cathartic for him or whether it would serve to make him feel even more of a fruit basket.

“No, not cathartic. It would just be... nice?” Arthur finished uselessly.

“If we’re going to have a moment, we really should have a camp fire or something,” Merlin mused, giving in and making himself comfortable against Arthur’s chest. It was weird that he felt so much better, so safe, like this but it wasn’t the weirdest feeling he’d had all day by a long shot.

“We can have one tomorrow, for our scene together, whatever you want.” Arthur touched Merlin’s elbow experimentally, the one still hooked around his knee. He didn’t want to push him but if laying his head on his chest wasn’t a signal, he didn’t know what was.

“It’s your film, it should be what you want,” Merlin said, glancing down at Arthur’s hand and letting it linger. That hand had been wrapped around his cock only a day ago, why should such an innocent touch give him more butterflies than a world class blowjob did?

“I can only see it from Arthur’s eyes, some things I miss, some things I can’t even guess at. That’s why I can’t tell you what it all means to Merlin or why. I don’t know. You have to tell me.”

“I don’t know either; it’s such a mess in my head. I swear I’m just losing the plot,” Merlin put off, the butterflies mixing with a substantiated fear of being called a nutter.

“No worse than me. I’ve messed everything up,” Arthur said, airing that particular thought instead, thinking it safer. “It started with you actually. At least I think it did. Nowhere, _nowhere_ , in the legend did it say I loved you – that we were lovers I mean – but I couldn’t see you any other way. That’s how I dreamed you and I cast you, I met you and it’s just... right. Then I do some things properly, like the legend says, I cast Gwen and Lancelot and I’m supposed to love her, I’m supposed to be torn apart by her betrayal and I feel nothing. Morgana is more upset about it than I am. All I can think about is getting it back to us. Finding a way for it to be about us. So beat that for a mess because I’m either losing my mind or I think I-”

Arthur cut himself off, taking a deep breath and cursing himself for thinking talking about any of this was safe. What he’d nearly said, any way that thought could have ended – and there were a fair few ways – none of them were safe. “What I mean is, to me, this is just as much your story as it is mine. So whatever you want tomorrow, you’ll have it.”

Merlin could feel Arthur’s tension run through him like a current, setting him on edge too. Whatever Arthur had shared, it was obviously something he hadn’t meant to say. Merlin knew he should leave it, make his excuses and thank Arthur for making him feel better but this whole thing was like an itch and now Arthur had started scratching it, he couldn’t stop it from building until he’d done the same.

“I don’t want this.” He scrambled to his feet, taking Arthur by surprise. “Not _this_ , that was fine, you’re fine – fuck – I mean, you’re trying to fix everything, make us all love each other so it doesn’t all go to shit but it doesn’t work. Morgana can’t be fine with you and Gwen, she can’t be fine with Gwen and Lancelot. I can’t be fine with it. You can’t be fine with it. We can act it out, like we’re paid to but it won’t work Arthur, not really. You’re trying to fix everything that was wrong by waving a magic wand but these things were wrong for a reason. If you’re doing it for me, I don’t want it. Things were fucked up, fine, but that’s how they were. I don’t want that changed.”

“Merlin...” Arthur said gently, getting to his feet as well.

“No. No. You wanted it, there it is,” Merlin said, unable to take it back now he’d said it. The fact he desperately wanted to take it all back made him all the more defensive of it. “You wanted to know, well now you-”

Merlin was cut off and for a second, he wondered where the end of his sentence had gone. The obvious answer was Arthur had taken it, when he’d covered his mouth and stopped him speaking. It took Merlin a second to process that Arthur wasn’t trying to shut him up; he was in fact kissing him.

-x-

After an hour and countless photos, each set pretending to use a different torture contraption, Agravaine finally gave way to the cameramen. It had been a frustrating hour as well, with Gwen gagged, they couldn't chat and she certainly couldn't put her mouth to better use. It was a shame really.

"How about, as you've been so good, I let you have your voice back? Do you think you can handle that responsibility?" Morgana asked, making a deliberate dig about duty so it didn't seem like this was personal for her. Gwen was being punished for running away from Arthur, that was all.

Gwen nodded eagerly and Morgana untied the gag, stuffing it down her cleavage in case Gwen should prove unworthy of such a gift.

"Well, aren't you going to thank me?" Morgana asked, making it clear that's what she expected.

What she didn't expect though was the passionate press of lips against her own followed by a hurried apology and thanks. Morgana had to shake herself, caught completely off guard for a moment. Luckily the cameras hadn't started rolling yet so there was nobody there to notice. Except Gwen.

"Do _not_ do that again without permission," Morgana warned her. Not because she didn't like it but because she liked it too much. "Do not do anything without my permission until I say otherwise," she amended, desperately needing some control back. "Except breathe. You can do that, I suppose."

"Thank you, my lady." Gwen bowed her head but Morgana shook hers.

"No, that was before. You're queen now, I am no longer _your lady_ but I will rule you. You can call me mistress."

"Yes, mistress. Thank you, mistress," Gwen corrected and Morgana nodded.

"Beside, the gag was more for your benefit than mine, trust me. I know ones like him..." Morgana nodded over to where Agravaine still lingered, hoping to see a bit of the action probably. "They give you cards and make you promises about fame, all in the hope of getting a quick shag under the everlasting guise of _the casting couch_. Either way you end up completely fucked over. They usually know better than to try it on with me but you, sweet little thing, are easy prey. Or you look it, at least."

Morgana heaved a sigh, a little weary of the industry today. She needed a good fuck, a good scene to take her mind off the increasingly skeevy image of Pendragon Pornography. Arthur had actually been a pleasant surprise, the road that company was on. If he had any sense, he'd take his money and do his own thing. Whatever his own thing was. Pornos with plots and emotion and character development or some shit like that.

"Come on, we've got work to do..." Morgana said, pulling Gwen along by the ring in her collar. She didn't take the leash. No Gwen would give her that, in good time, when she was ready to put Morgana above all others.

On the set there were various scary looking instruments and devices, none of which she was allowed to use. She was slightly disappointed; she swore there was a rack in here somewhere that looked in full working order. But the piece of furniture they’d been was nothing to be sneezed at. It was really rather gorgeous, a red patent leather bench chosen with spanking her regal Guinevere in mind.

Morgana nodded over to the bench, not having to say a word because Gwen knew what she had in mind. Hence the black leather paddle. She’d been a bad girl and now she was going to be punished. Morgana turned away as Gwen scrambled eagerly onto the bench. She ran her hands over the table. The shackles had been put there to use at her discretion but if it had been her Gwen had cheated on, she wouldn’t hesitate. So on behalf of Arthur, who didn’t really seem to give a fuck, she picked them up, carried them over to the bench and dropped one set by Gwen’s feet. The other pair she took to Gwen’s head, making her hold out her hands for them, relying completely on the bench for balance. Morgana smiled, feeling something zing inside her at the sound of the cuffs clicking closed. She didn’t address Gwen though, not yet.

She walked back to her feet, picking up the other set and locking one cuff around one ankle, the other around the other. In her precarious position, she wasn’t going anywhere soon and Morgana knew the cuffs were heavy. Another layer to her penitence. Now she was complete, Morgana would talk to her.

“Dear, dear, Guinevere, what am I going to do with you?” Morgana asked, warming up. They all knew what she was going to do; it was just a matter of one of them saying it out loud. She walked back to the table to get the paddle, looking around as picked it up. 

“Do you like my Dark Tower?” Morgana asked, even though it wasn’t really a tower at all, it was one of the vaults of the castle, so dark and creepy that they didn’t need to change a thing. “I brought you here especially to remind you just how easy you have it back home.”

Morgana didn’t wait for a reply; she pushed on regardless of whether Gwen liked it here or not. “I mean, you had Arthur, you had... me. I’m sure if you’d asked dear Arthur, he would have loaned you out to Lancelot quite happily. He still loans you out to me every so often, after all. And he’s always loaning himself out to Merlin. Hell, he even loaned Merlin out to me in order to find you, whatever purpose that served. I hear he’s going to have all the knights upon your return, a show that sharing really is caring.”

Morgana laughed, catching herself before she began to sound unhinged, just. It seemed to be a fine line. “Perhaps that’s what I should do with you, give you to the knights as a token of a job well done, what do you think?

“If that is your wish, mistress,” Gwen conceded and Morgana smirked, noting the difference between things being _her wish_ and _punishment_.

She slapped the paddle against her open palm, getting a jump from Gwen in return. It was barely noticeable with the way she was balancing on the bench, but Morgana knew what she was looking for. “Shall we begin then?”

“If it pleases you, mistress,” Gwen agreed.

“Of course it doesn’t please me, you ran away-” Morgana cut herself off. “It’s purely my job to make you see the error of your ways. I’d usually give you a number to count down from but seeing as this is about loyalty, I’ll stop when I believe you’d be loyal to me, and only me.” Gwen raised her eyebrows and Morgana amended it to, “and Arthur as well, I suppose.”

Morgana pulled a face and turned, taking Gwen by surprise by catching the side of her arse with it. “But that’s not for you to worry about, is it? You just count your blessings and let me know when you’re ready to come home. If you give in before you mean it, I’ll know...”

Gwen nodded, biting down on her lip. Morgana knew she was trying to resolve that she wouldn’t cry out again on the next blow. And she didn’t. Nor on the third. But on the fourth, she yelped, unable to keep it inside.

Morgana switched cheek and was met with another wall of resolve. This one lasting seven short sharp whacks with the paddle. By the time Gwen made a sound, you could hardly tell Gwen’s skin was so deliciously exotic, it burned bright pink just the same as any other skin.

“Please, Morgana,” Gwen begged and yelped again in confusion when Morgana delivered another blow.

“Please, _mistress..._ ” Morgana corrected her; they would be here all day if she waited for Gwen to realise her mistake through the haze.

“Please, mistress. I chose poorly. You have never denied me anything I wanted, neither has Arthur. It was foolish to choose a fantasy over you – the both of you.”

“Good girl,” Morgana cooed, dropping the paddle to the floor with a clatter so that Gwen knew she was done with it. But to make sure her lesson stuck, she ran her hand over the hot flesh of one of Gwen’s arsecheeks before spanking her with an open hand. It got the same pitiful yelp and Morgana gave in. She’d wrung all she could from Gwen; it was time to win her back over with love.

“Shush my sweet, you’ve been so good,” Morgana said soothingly, running one hand up her back and bringing the other to her positively dripping cunt. There was no question that she’d paid attention to her lesson.

Curling her hand about Gwen’s waist, she looked down over her arse and watched as two of her fingers dove into Gwen’s cunt, slick enough to take them but Morgana knew it would be a stretch, there would be a burn. She wondered if Gwen felt anything like the heat that her arse was radiating inside her. Morgana could certainly felt it.

She brought her thumb down to roughly circle Gwen’s clit. “You won’t forget this, will you, Guinevere?”

“N-no, mistress,” Gwen stuttered out, her legs starting to tremble. Morgana could bet she was grateful for the bench now.

“Because if you do...” Morgana trailed off and landed another slap to Gwen’s arse, the side that had faced more attention when Gwen hadn’t made a peep. This time she swore, the word dissolving into guttural sounds as Morgana felt her come around her fingers, squeezing her tight as Morgana picked up her sentence. “I’ll be there to remind you. Always.”

Gwen gave a few harsh gasps, drinking in air before managing to spit out, “always, mistress.”

“Always,” Morgana affirmed, laying her head on Gwen’s back. “Always.”

-x-

After awkwardly dragging himself away from Arthur, Merlin had made his excuses and somehow forced his legs to walk away. He wasn’t even sure what he was walking away from, he just knew he needed to. Because he sure as hell couldn’t think clearly with Arthur kissing him. He couldn’t even think clearly with Arthur in the same room as him it seemed.

He knew he should go, he should just go home, have that cup of tea he’d promised himself and go to bed. But somehow in his confusion, he’d walked the wrong way and walked through the wrong door. He was loathe to go back and admit his mistake so he kept walking, knowing he’d find something sooner or later. What he found was a staircase, tucked out of the way. Not a grand, sweeping staircase like the one he’d been under either. This one was just a staircase.

Merlin shrugged to himself, setting his foot on the first step and refusing to look back. Backwards was Arthur. Forwards was... who knew?

He took the stairs up to a corridor, finding a door and a room but no obvious exit. He looked around, taking in the bare walls and floor and finally spotting a few steps leading up to another door on the other side of the room. He walked over to it, his footsteps echoing in the silence, louder than they had any right to be. He glanced down at his feet, the stone floor. He could swear he’d walked it before.

Something shivered through him, freezing him to the core. Merlin was sure he’d been here before. He was sure this room had seen life once. He looked up, his feet having reached the small steps. The door seemed daunting now. He swallowed, telling himself it was only panels of wood and metal hinges, nothing in it could hurt him. But the very thought of returning – of entering – made his heart sit uncomfortably in his throat.

Taking a deep breath and resolving not to such a bloody girl about it, he lifted the latch and pushed the door open, revealing another empty room. This one was smaller though and he couldn’t help but be drawn to the single window. From here he could see out into the woods but it wasn’t too hard to imagine being at the pinnacle of some great kingdom. Arthur’s great kingdom.

Merlin sighed. Arthur’s great kingdom was his film and Merlin had managed to effectively crap all over that only a few moments ago. He regretted what he’d said. He didn’t even really mean it, not about his intentions with his film at least. Fuck, he didn’t even know what he’d meant only that it meant _something_ to him.

He settled down on the cold hard floor, wondering if it would have killed the previous occupant to leave a chair or something behind so he might have something to sit on. A crate would have done.

He could get up, he could go home but he wanted to stay a moment, take stock of his situation. Here seemed the best place for it, the walls holding some comfort for him despite the outward discomfort he felt. He shivered again, pulling his jacket tighter around him. Morgana had effectively shredded his shirt but with his jacket over it, he managed to pull them both closed. His trousers had thankfully stayed in place despite his running around like a headless chicken, mostly thanks to the creative use of pins. Only enough to get him back to wardrobe though, somewhere he still hadn’t made his way too.

The sun was starting to set now. If he waited a little bit longer, Arthur would go home and he’d be able to creep out. He laid back against the floor. He just had to wait a bit longer.

-x-

By the time Arthur got home and to bed, he had way too much to think about and not enough energy to think about it. He’d kissed Merlin. Unscripted. Without a camera. With no excuse. 

Perhaps it was all in his head, whatever drew him to Merlin. Just some run off feelings from his story. He closed his eyes, determined not to think about it. Tomorrow he had to film with him. He’d have to film with everyone. There wouldn’t be anyone on the cast list that wouldn’t be having a piece of him so it was silly to spend his night worrying about one kiss.

Of course even if he could forget the kiss, he’d only be left with what was said before it to think about.

-x-

_Come on. We have to make it to the lake._

Merlin opened his eyes. The sun was still setting but he was no longer inside, he was outside staring up at it. No... no, the sun wasn’t setting, it was rising. The thought set a jolt of panic through his heart. No, no, no, the sun couldn’t rise, not yet. He wasn’t ready.

_Merlin...not without the horses. We can't, it's too late. It's too late._

Merlin looked down, where there should have only been his body on stone floor, instead there was Arthur and he was desperately trying to lift him. His destiny crashed down on him, what he was doing crashed down on him and he realised that weight he was bearing was Arthur. The voice was his own. The other one, denying his hopes, was Arthur’s.

“No,” he said aloud.

“With all your magic, Merlin, you can't save my life.”

“I can.” Something welled up in Merlin, desperation, tears, fear, everything. He pushed it back down. He wasn’t giving up now. “I'm not going to lose you.”

He made another attempt to drag Arthur up with him, using everything he could muster but it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t strong enough.

“Just...” Arthur started, calm where Merlin was frantic, demanding calmness from him too. “Just hold me. Please.”

Merlin stopped, broken for a moment by Arthur’s request. He didn’t want to stop trying, he couldn’t give up but he couldn’t deny Arthur either. After all this time, if he’d learned one thing it was when it came down to it, it was _always_ Arthur. Everything was.

“There's something I want to say...” Arthur said and panic rose in Merlin again. No, no, no, he wouldn’t say it. He couldn’t hear it.

“No, you are not going to say goodbye,” Merlin said aloud, his voice sure and strong, for Arthur, even though he had no strength left at all.

“No, Merlin...” Arthur shook his head and looked up at him. It should have stilled the fear in his heart but it only made it worse. “Everything you've done, I know now. For me, for Camelot, for the kingdom you helped me build...”

“You'd have done it without me,” Merlin desperately tried to deny Arthur’s words because they still sounded like a goodbye. Arthur smiled, thinking it a joke. Merlin didn’t say anything to change that, it was worth it for the smile.

“Maybe,” Arthur said, losing focus for a moment before something, the need to get out whatever it was, pulling him back. “I want to say...something I've never said to you before...”

There was a pause, and Merlin couldn’t breathe while Arthur turned his head, trying to face him as much as he was able. “Thank you.”

There was another pause, the silence running between them so heavily that it seemed to go on a lifetime. A lifetime without breathing, like he was trying to forsake air if only he could give it to Arthur. It was a lifetime they didn’t have. But Arthur didn’t seem to notice, he was smiling again. His hand reached up, taking the back of Merlin’s head in his palm and doing his best to hold onto him though it used up whatever it was he was clinging to.

“Arthur, hey... no...Arthur,” Merlin said, trying to shake the life back into him before shouting, “Arthur!” as if he could startle him awake.

It worked for a second and his heart soared, whispering, “stay with me”, unable to stop himself from smiling. But it didn’t last. “Arthur, no.”

 _ARTHUR!_

Merlin startled away, screaming Arthur’s name into the empty castle. Each breath hurt and he could feel himself the verge of tears even though he couldn’t quite understand why. He looked at the window, early sunlight streaming through it. No, the sun couldn’t rise... it had to wait, he wasn’t ready, he had to save Arthur.

He couldn’t lose Arthur.

-x-

Running more than a little late after barely catching a wink of sleep, Arthur decided to forgo his coffee in favour of getting straight to it. Everyone had been dragged together in the room that two days previously had still been a mess. Morgana had found it, claiming it was the only place big enough for the large circular table they’d bought to stand in for The Round Table. They’d cleared enough of the floor and cleaned enough of the walls that it could pass as lived in rather than ruins.

He glanced around, taking in everyone that surrounded him. He knew each one from casting them, even if he’d never met some of them. There was Elyan, put forward by Guinevere. There was Leon, who he’d worked with so many times; he really was like a brother. Then there was Lancelot of course and Gwaine and Percival. He glanced up at the dais and spotted Morgana on a large chair, serving as a throne, with Guinevere knelt at her feet. Arthur didn’t mind. Perhaps it was easier for them to keep in character even when the cameras were switched off.

He looked around again, just to make sure. “Where’s Merlin?”

The crew all looked back at him with shrugs and muttering. He sighed, realising it was his job to know these things. “Well, someone call him. I’m supposed to be shooting with him first.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Morgana descended the dais, motioning for Gwen to stay where she was. “We tried calling him. We tried calling you too. Figured you’d both gone off into the sunset together and left us to make do.”

“There was bad traffic,” Arthur lied through clenched teeth. Even if that had been true, he knew Morgana was teasing him.

“Mmm-hmm. Well, I’m sure that’s what’s keeping Merlin then,” she said, calling his bluff, forcing Arthur to nod in agreement. “Why don’t you start with the Knights, push his scene back to later.”

“He’s in that scene too,” Arthur admitted, even though everyone was aware of the fact.

“I’m sure he’ll turn up before the big finish.” Morgana raised an eyebrow. “He is the big finish right?”

“Right!” Arthur said, raising his voice to address everyone, rather than Morgana alone. “That’s what we’re doing then. Group scene first, then most of you can have an early lunch.”

Arthur took a deep, steadying breath while the knights shrugged and started stripping. He tried to pretend he wasn’t panicking on the inside. What if he’d fucked everything up and Merlin wasn’t coming at all? What if he’d scared Merlin off by kissing him? He forced the thought down. He was about to be fucked six ways from Sunday – or five ways now that Merlin wasn’t there – he had to focus.

After divesting himself of all his clothes and spreading himself over the table, legs dangling over the edge, Arthur glanced up. “Any volunteers or do you guys wanna watch while I prep myself?”

“Nah, we can’t let you do that, Princess,” Gwaine said, stepping up. He nodded to a member of crew who came armed with a squirty bottle of lube, ready to dispense at a moment’s notice. With a liberal amount on his fingers, he circled Arthur’s hole and Arthur let himself fall back on the table.

Maybe it was a good thing Merlin wasn’t here after what he said about not being ok with sharing him with Gwen. Maybe that was why he wasn’t there. If he couldn’t handle one woman, how did he plan to handle a string of knights? Arthur wasn’t even sure how he was going to handle them himself. But he was going to.

Merlin had been right. He couldn’t fix what had happened. He’d been silly to try, even in a porn film. But he could use this porn the same way everyone else used it, as escapism. For a while he could lie back, basking in the love of his knights, his wife and his sister – all at peace with each other – and pretend there was nothing more to it than that. No dreams. No jealousy. No completely and utterly bewildering feelings for Merlin.

He still had plenty of time to show up though, as Morgana had said, he was the big finish. He looked back at Morgana, upside down in his view. She was sat at the other end of the table from where he was, Gwen perched naked on her lap.

For the moment though, he wasn’t anywhere to be seen so Arthur focused on the feel of Gwaine’s fingers opening him up, his voice sweet-talking him so smoothly it was like water off a duck’s back. Above him was an old fashioned chandelier – really old fashioned. He imagined candles still stuck in it, burned down to nothing almost. How many candles had it seen over the years? Had it ever seen anything like this?

He felt two fingers inside him now, his own fist around his cock, keeping him closer to bliss than discomfort. He was so used to being prepared quickly and carelessly that he barely even saw the burn as a bad thing anymore. It was just another part of scripted sex. But Gwaine was taking his time with him. He was going slowly; teasing him almost like this was part of the show. It wasn’t of course. No, in the world of porn everyone came with magically accommodating arseholes, even the supposed virgins.

Feeling Gwaine’s fingers withdraw and hearing several shouts of action came almost as a relief. He needed something more, something a little less sweet and gentle, to drive the worried thoughts of Merlin from his head. If a gangbang was good for anything, Arthur knew, it was rendering one completely and utterly incapable of coherent thought. He reached out to the sides of the table, finding it so large he couldn’t even reach the edges. He’d have to take them one at a time, his hands and his mouth rendered useless by the span of the table. He’d still have them all though, every single one of them. 

Each knight took his place around the table, standing where chairs would have been. Each one got an equal view, each one was equal. That was the point of this table, this exercise. Each one took their cocks in their hands, for the camera, slowly jacking themselves off at the image of their king spread before them, on the table, like an offering on a sacrificial altar, reminding him of his place in all this.

He felt the head of Gwaine’s cock press against his hole, making him draw in a sharp breath. The first one was always the hardest to take and the camera didn’t care for slow and gentle. Arthur closed his eyes, feeling every inch as it breached him. He had just enough time to feel completely full, having taken Gwaine’s cock right to the root, before he was losing it again, unbearably empty without it. A snap of hips and he was full once more, the rhythm like a tide, surging in and waning out, like the sound of Gwaine’s voice, talking him through it. 

He could still mark the difference between them, the exact moment when Gwaine held for the barest second, completely engulfed in Arthur’s body before he gave Arthur his body back, pulling away. That was good, eventually he wouldn’t be able to tell where he ended and the knights, whichever knight, began.

As Gwaine got close, his hand came up to Arthur’s cock out of reflex. It happened all the time when topping, it was just automatic, trying to make sure everyone involved came before it was too late. But Arthur batted the hand away, grasping his cock himself. He couldn’t come on the first knight. He still had another four to go, not to mention Merlin, should he come. He had to keep himself on edge, floating pleasantly enough not to mind he was being used every which way imaginable. Even the ones that wouldn’t even get to touch him would be using him. The makeup girls, the men on the cameras, everyone in the room would be taking this image home for their wank bank. Arthur would make sure of it.

Feeling Gwaine come inside him made him bite down on his lip, forcing everything inside him back down, resisting the urge to come himself. He had a few seconds to mourn the loss of Gwaine, who pulled out, gave him a cheeky wink and an even cheekier slap to his flank, before he was staring up at a new face, a new body, a new cock. His mind took in the details and threw the name Elyan at him. Elyan was Gwen’s... something to do with Gwen, he couldn’t remember. He could only follow the line of dark skin down to the slight flush of pink on the head of his cock. Arthur couldn’t recall if he’d ever done interracial before on screen but the mild size queen in him – and there was a mild size queen in every porn star otherwise they’d all be crying into their cornflakes at the thought of taking such above average cocks on a daily basis – made a note to start doing more of them.

Where Gwaine had been talkative, Elyan was oddly stoic, all business with just a layer of shyness. Arthur smiled up at him, raising his eyebrows by way of introduction. 

“Nice to meet you,” Arthur said as he felt the push of Elyan’s cock. Nowhere near uncomfortable despite the size, Gwaine had thoroughly opened him for everyone that would come after him.

A slow smile spread across Elyan’s face before he laughed, his eyes lighting up. “Nice to meet you, sire.”

Arthur laughed, he didn’t care, they could cut it if they wanted. But for him, that was exactly what he wanted. He needed that feeling of camaraderie, of brotherhood; he needed to feel that bond between them. Different to whatever it was he was meant to feel with Gwen, different to the solace he took with Morgana, different to whatever the hell it was he felt with Merlin. Uncomplicated, no questions asked, loyalty. Admittedly, they could have got that feeling whilst running around the forest pretending to be saving some damsel in distress rather than having all of them fuck him but like with everything else, this was what he knew. 

He slowed his fist, clenching down. He’d gotten a little carried away with his thoughts of shining knights and damsels in distress; he’d forgotten that he was supposed to be keeping himself on the edge, not leaning over it. In his attempts to pull himself back, he heard Elyan swear and felt another hot rush of come inside him. Another thing he’d forgotten in his daydreaming, he wasn’t just fucking for fun, he wasn’t supposed to make his partner come.

Karma came in the form of Percival, 6' 5" and if he was proportionate – and it being porn, he would be – Arthur knew he wouldn’t be walking straight for at least a week. But despite his towering size, Percival was insanely gentle with it, hitching both of Arthur’s legs up around his hips until Arthur’s arse was raised clean off the table. The higher angle pushed Percival deeper than any of the other knights had been and after a few near misses, Arthur found himself led back on the table, trying to block out the waves of pleasure that came with the repetitive nudge of Percival’s cock against his prostate to the point he had to still the hand around his own dick and use it to scrabble against the table or risk coming two knights too soon. Thankfully, Percival didn’t test his stamina too long, bowing out gracefully while he moaned and writhed like a wonton whore. Or a wonton king, at the very least.

It was Leon who brought him back down again, pulling him back from the edge. He smiled fondly at him, Leon’s head bowed in a nod of reverence. Leon was the first knight he’d cast. In fact, it was Leon that inspired this whole scene, the one who made Arthur think that perhaps this could work. Arthur had worked with him countless times, been fucked by him a fair few times and he was always the gentleman, no matter how lewd the film might become. He was like a living knight himself but like Arthur, porn was all he knew.

Historically, there was no Sir Leon but he was a shining example of a knight, the closest friend Arthur had in the industry and Arthur couldn’t bear to template another knight over him. So he let him keep his name and decide upon his own character. As Leon slid into him, so easy now he’d been had so many times, he felt the overwhelming urge to thank him. The knights were safe under him, the kingdom was safe, Gwen...

“Fuck, Leon,” Arthur said, breaking his resolve and showing just how close to losing it he was. Leon would know it wasn’t just a show for the cameras; it was a plea for him to handle him with caution.

“Sire,” Leon replied, not breaking character but yet sounding exactly as he did when he’d say _Arthur_.

Neither of them could hold off on the fucking, that was on a countdown timer, each one of them had their allotted time and they were expected to fill it. But Leon’s thrusts were shallow, his touch fleeting. Arthur could drift away from it all, left with only feelings and his own thoughts. Arthur loved it like this, the few that wouldn’t demand anything back from him, that would just let him lie there, blissed out even though he hadn’t even come yet, riding the plateau like he could stay like this forever. He didn’t even feel Leon come until it was too late, he was so thoroughly fucked, dripping come from five different men, he couldn’t distinguish what was what anymore.

He only had one knight left. Tipping his head back, he saw Gwen lean forward, one of Morgana’s arms still possessively locked around her but the other came up to brush her hair out of her face so she might get a better look. Whatever had been topsy-turvy between them had worked itself out, Arthur thought happily. Now if only he could find the same peace with Merlin.

As Lancelot fucked him, eyes pleading for scripted forgiveness, Arthur just nodded, too busy looking around him. Only Lancelot left. Only one left. He needed Merlin to be here already.

-x-

Merlin lowered himself back to the floor, even though to lie on it was agony now. He scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to sort himself out and get rid of any sign he'd woken up crying. Whose grand idea was it to sleep on a hard floor in a freezing castle anyway?

He shuddered, remembering the way he'd led himself here, the feeling of dread at the idea of just being here and then the unmistakable feeling of being home that overwhelmed him. It _was_ like he was home, he couldn't explain it any other way. The only thing missing, the cause of his regret and his fear, was Arthur.

He let his hands still on his face. Fucking Arthur. Why was it, in the space of about sixty hours, everything had become about Arthur. It was worse than the fucking sexual tension. At least that he knew how to resolve. But this...

He uncovered his face, sighing. He couldn't run away from it, from him. He'd tried that last night and look where it got him. Bitterly cold and aching, having nightmares where he was losing Arthur, really losing him. That's where it got him. Nowhere bloody pleasant.

He wondered vaguely if that was his subconscious' way of warning him time was running out. Today was the last day of the shoot and last night he'd acted like a tit. If he strained his ears, he could hear Arthur being fucked already. Shit! What time was it?

Merlin sat up; it didn't matter if his dream was telling if he'd fucked up or not. It was evident he had. Arthur must have presumed he'd walked and that he wasn't coming back. And with the things he'd said, Merlin could hardly blame him. He was fucked. He was fucking fucked. And he didn't know why he cared so much... he just did.

He got to his feet, pulling the door opened and almost running to the other door, the one that would lead him back to Arthur. He glanced back, thanking the two rooms, if he had been brought to them for a reason, for bringing him to his senses. What did it matter if Arthur wanted to fix everything? Didn't everyone want a happily ever after? Didn't he? He didn't know what the hell it meant but he knew if he cocked this up now, over something so trivial as a gangbang and a few scenes on the side, he'd never know.

Finding his way back through the maze of corridors and stairwells was actually easier than he'd guessed and he found himself outside two sets of oversized doors with nothing prepared. What would he say? _Hi there, I had a nightmare about you dying and now I've decided that so long as I can have the tiniest piece of you, I'm fine with the rest, whatever that might entail..._

"Fuck it," Merlin swore, trying the door and finding it almost immovable. He put his whole weight into it, pushing with everything he had. As they started to creep forward, Arthur's word, the one that had tormented him only the other day flashed into his mind, giving him the most solid bit of advice he'd received since then.

_React!_

-x-

“Sire,” Lancelot said, leaning down over him so he could lower his voice. “Merlin still isn’t here. Should I...?”

Arthur knew what he was asking. Lancelot was his most loyal knight, or so the story went, but he wasn’t his most loyal servant. He wasn’t his most loyal friend. He wasn’t Merlin. This place of honour was meant to be for Merlin. To show him that despite everything, at the end of it, it was him.

“No,” Arthur refused. “I’ll sit here all day if I have to. He has to come...”

Arthur didn’t finish the end of the sentence because he didn’t like the only logical reason he had. _He has to come, he signed a contract._ Arthur sighed, after all they’d been through, all the weight he’d put on Merlin, Arthur wouldn’t blame him for breaking his contract. What was a bit of lost money compared to the mess they’d been through the other day?

“Fine,” Arthur said, as Lancelot stepped back, nodding at Leon. If anyone was going to-

There was a great creaking then a crash, cutting Arthur off. He rolled his eyes, trying to get a look at the sudden disruption but he didn’t need to see him. He heard him.

“Fuck me, those doors are heavy!”

“MERLIN!” Arthur shouted, his mild annoyance overridden by pure relief but he couldn’t very well admit that. “You’re late!”

“I know, I know,” Merlin said, his voice softer now he’d approached the table. “I see you didn’t wait for me.”

Arthur looked him over. He was still in the same clothes as the day before, half torn to pieces by Morgana. By the look on her face, she was thinking the same thing. But Merlin didn’t offer an explanation and Arthur didn’t ask for one.

“I couldn’t...” Arthur started but changed his mind, it didn’t matter. “You were the last hurrah anyway and you’re here now.”

Merlin nodded, pulling his clothes free and putting his hands on the table, one either side of Arthur’s thighs. He leaned over him, just as Lancelot did, whispering so the boom wouldn’t pick them up.

“I’m sorry I was such a clotpole, ok? It was just a bit much all at once,” Merlin pressed a kiss to his cheek, away from the camera. “I’m used to just turning up and fucking about. I don’t do feelings and I certainly don’t do that level of feeling about the plot of a porno. Let’s just forget your Arthur and your Merlin and fuck, please?”

“Clotpole?” Arthur asked, ignoring the rest. He couldn’t explain that he was his Arthur and Merlin, try as he might to pretend otherwise, was perfectly his Merlin. But if he wasn’t ready for that, if he didn’t understand it the same way, Arthur could deal with that. One day they’d have to talk about it but that didn’t have to be now. It was history, it would keep.

“Yeah...” Merlin smiled, seeing the acceptance of his notion in Arthur’s grin. “I’ll work on a better insult. Prat kind of seems like your thing.”

“I thought idiot suited you well enough,” Arthur countered but Merlin had already pulled away, sinking to the floor and out of sight.

On his knees, Merlin pushed apart Arthur’s thighs, dragging him back to the edge of the table and admiring the complete mess the knights had made of him. He had come painted halfway down his legs and he was still dripping at an alarming rate, his hole pink and tender looking, begging to be kissed better. Merlin pressed a kiss to the inside of Arthur’s thigh, letting him know where he was, what he was going to do. When Arthur pushed himself even further down the table, Merlin smiled to himself. He didn’t know if Arthur really was a king but he certainly acted like one.

Merlin kissed upward, making his way to Arthur’s arse, catching all the trails of come on the tip of his tongue and dragging them back up Arthur’s skin. When he got to his prize, he placed a gentle kiss to Arthur’s abused hole and wondered just how long he’d had them wait for him. He wasn’t gaping exactly but Merlin could slip three fingers into him without any trouble, licking around them, collecting come and lube on his tongue until Arthur was sparkling clean again. 

Standing, he crooked his fingers, watching Arthur unravel a little bit more before he nudged him up the table until he was led full stretch across it, his head in its centre and his feet barely touching the edge. Merlin took a moment appreciate the size of the table Arthur had found, even if it was just plain old wood, before he experimentally brought his knee up onto it. When it became apparent his weight wasn’t going to flip it over, he climbed up and crawled over to Arthur, a mischievous grin on his face. He may have been a while coming to terms with this but now he was here, he was going to end the scene with a bang. Literally.

He held his hand out for lube and after thanking the girl dispensing it, applied it to his cock. He took his time; still kneeling at Arthur’s feet, barely balanced on the table. It didn’t matter; they’d edit it out to make it perfect anyway. But he could feel Arthur’s eyes on him and that made him go slow, determined to drag it out as long as he could. Arthur had already been fucked five times, Merlin wanted him to _want_ to be fucked by _him_.

When he couldn’t convincingly tease anymore, he crawled up between Arthur’s legs, catching one by the calf and raising it, hooking it over his waist and sliding his hand down over Arthur’s thigh to hold it in place.

“What are you doing?” Arthur whispered furiously when Merlin was close enough, bending down to almost lie on top of him. “You’re not supposed to be on the table.”

“What?” Merlin asked, pushing inside Arthur and getting a strangled moan from him instead of an answer. “Is the table just for cock-hungry kings?”

“Merlin!” Arthur gasped and Merlin really didn’t know if it was his words or his actions but one or the other, maybe even both, seemed to be doing the trick.

“Is that it? Am I breaking some code of honour by getting up here with you, putting myself on a level with you?” Merlin circled his hips and when Arthur cried out, his prostate hit, he grinded them down, fucking Arthur into the table. “Saying that, I’m already fucking you; does that not break some form of law? Surely I should be bent over for the king, not the other way around? The king bent over for all of us.”

“Jesus Christ, Merlin!” Arthur’s hands came up to his back, clinging on, his nails digging in until the skin around them turned white with pressure.

“But this is the way you want it, so this is the way you shall have it,” Merlin mused, his thoughts drifting from the precision of his thrusts, trusting his body to keep on the path he’d set it on. “You’d have thought I’d have learned by now. No matter the choice, it will always be you.”

Arthur cocked his head to the side and Merlin raised his eyebrows, now was certainly not the time for _that_ conversation.

“You know,” Arthur said through a deep breath, doing his best to render a whole sentence in his mind before Merlin’s continual ramming against the sweet spot inside him destroyed that ability. “We should do this again some time. Just us.”

“You mean like a date?” Merlin asked, his eyebrows rising for real. “You’re aware you’ve already gotten into my pants, you don’t have to ask me out.”

“I-” Arthur started, the force of Merlin’s body jarring all words from him for a second. “I want to. You’re... you’re Merlin.”

“You do know I’m not actually _the_ Merlin, right?” Merlin asked, even though it twisted in his gut to admit it. “That’s not even my name. My weird hippie of a mother saddled me with Em-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Arthur interrupted; he didn’t want to know any other name for him. His eyes fluttered closed as Merlin grasped his cock, as if to make amends for his admittance. “You’re _my_ Merlin. No matter what you call yourself.”

“Ok,” Merlin agreed, then shook his head, clearing it. “I mean ok to the date... thing, whatever.”

“Good, good,” Arthur muttered, starting to white out. “Can I come now, please?”

Merlin laughed and closed the space between them, burying himself in Arthur for a second and stilling so he could kiss him, somehow getting the words out around Arthur’s mouth, “Of course, _my lord_...”

Merlin felt Arthur's orgasm shake through his whole body, the effect of keeping it at bay for so long. He could feel it extend, wrap its tendrils around him, Arthur's insides clenching around him, demanding he surrender. And so he did, yet again, surrender to Arthur.

-x-

Two hours later, Arthur was showered, dried and almost feeling like he hadn’t been fucked by half an army. While in the shower, Merlin’s comments about the camp fire came back to him, more as daydreams about camping out on some mission than any coherent thought and he decided to pull the scripted scene for them that was scheduled later in the day, much to Merlin’s bewilderment. It took a fair bit of explaining; not least explaining that it was in fact Merlin’s own suggestion before the charges of trying to get free overtime out of him were dropped. It took Merlin a lot longer to accept that it wasn’t another, more bizarre but more appropriately timed, way to get him on a date.

And so now they were sat quietly, their power foursome, the core four. Merlin was sat atop his throne but Arthur didn’t mind, because Merlin had whispered yet another of his good ideas into his ear. So he let Merlin sit on his throne. Because he was sat atop Merlin, riding his cock while Gwen’s delicate features became wide eyes and hollowed cheeks as she sucked his cock like her life depended on it. Her lustre was only matched by Morgana, spread completely on the floor, Gwen straddling her face as she at her out like a three course meal.

The cameras weren’t even rolling. They were just waiting to begin.

**Author's Note:**

> As of 01/01/18, I'm opting to disable comments. [More information here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13077201).


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